Kismet
by icewitch73
Summary: Detective Natalie Buchanan is forced to work with the FBI while on the hunt for a serial killer.  Things heat up in Llanview.
1. Chapter 1

KISMET

The pool of blood was dark. She was killed hours ago. "He's growing more bold," Detective Buchanan said, aloud. The body was not as isolated as the others had been, but it was brutalized. The victim would be hard to identify.

"Detective?" An officer nodded toward the front entrance to the park. A trio of men in suits were standing there flashing badges. Federal badges.

"I'm looking for the Detective in charge?" a voice said from behind.

"That would be me," Natalie answered, standing slowly. She turned and found herself face to face with an attractive young man. He was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved black fitted shirt. His brown hair was long, well long-ish, and unkempt. He had stubble and looked like he would fit in under the pier with the local street hustlers. Their eyes locked for a few seconds, taking each other in, and he grinned a very cocky, self-assured grin. She didn't like him. "Nobody called the Feds."

His grin widened. "What makes you think I'm a Fed?" She just looked at him. He grabbed the chain around his neck and pulled out the badge that was hiding under his clothes. "Alright," he began, "so I'm a Fed. If you're the one in charge then you're who I should be talking too." He held out his hand.

Natalie hesitated, but only for a second. She grabbed his hand and shook it, staring at him the entire time. His eyes were piercing, and not because they were the deepest blue she has ever seen. His hand was rough and calloused, but also strong and warm. She dropped it and turned toward the three suits that were heading this way. "Gentlemen," she greeted flatly.

"Hello Natalie."

She smiled. "Jerry, what the hell are you doing here? Did my uncle call you?"

"Nope." He stepped forward and gave her a quick hug. His eyes found the body laying on the perfectly manicured lawn a few feet away. "We need in on this case," he said, stepping back and introducing his colleagues. "This is Federal Agent Sully, and Agent Sharpe."

They just stood there, staring at her with stoney expressions. "Nice suits," Natalie deadpanned, not bothering to hide her annoyance. She turned toward the street hustler, who was also staring. "Didn't anyone tell you there was a dress code?" He was grinning again and she wanted to slap him.

"I guess I missed that memo?" He stepped closer. "John McBain," he said, offering his hand a second time. She didn't take it.

"We've done that already," she pointed out, taking an involuntary step backward. He was too close. "You're not taking my case away from me."

"Let's get out of the schoolyard, shall we?" John challenged, slightly irritated. He wasn't cut out for this political crap, even if it was with an extremely hot redheaded detective. He withdrew his hand and crossed his arms over his chest. "We need in on this case, but if you push it we have the authority to take it out from under you."

She stepped closer, meeting his gaze head on. If he thought he could intimidate her he had another thing coming? Before she could lose her temper however, her uncle showed up.

"Natalie!" he shouted. She turned toward him. "I need you over here for a minute."

Her attention was back on the arrogant agent, who was still standing there ready to square off with her. She walked away. "What the hell are they doing here?" she snapped, when she reached her uncle.

"Calm down. Jerry called and filled me in on a few things. We need to work with them on this, Nat."

"Nobody has bothered to tell me why yet?" She was frustrated, and angry. There was a dead girl on the ground and she was wasting time dealing with three suits and an ass.

"Are you calm?" She took another deep breath, and then smiled. How did he do that?

"Yeah," she said at last. "Talk to me."

He returned her smile. "Come on." They walked back to the agents who were still standing around. All except the one called McBain. He was over at the body with his back to them.

Jerry stepped forward with a huge grin. "Mr. Police Commissioner." He shook his friend's hand. "How are things, Bo?"

Bo Buchanan glanced at the crime scene for the first time. "Well, they've been better."

"Yeah," Jerry replied.

"Do I get to know what's going on?" Natalie asked, growing impatient. She was tired of all this talk. She needed to get back to work.

Jerry turned to her. "What's going on is you have yourself a bona fide serial killer and he seems to have made a home here?"

"And he's not going anywhere anytime soon," John said, rejoining the conversation. He wore latex gloves and held a scrabble piece in his hand.

Natalie felt her stomach tighten. "You found that in the girl's mouth." She wasn't asking, she already knew the answer. He nodded. An officer came and collected the evidence and put it with all the other trace that was found at the scene.

John looked to his fellow agents. "It's him," he said confidently. He looked at Natalie again for a moment. "Well, I'm gonna find a hotel and get started." Then he walked toward the park exit.

Bo turned to his niece. "Finish up here and then come to my office. We'll talk." She nodded.

"Are you staying too?" she asked Jerry.

"Just McBain," he answered. "He'll keep us informed."

Natalie met the older man's eyes. "What makes him qualified to stay and work on this?"

Jerry paused. "He has an intimate knowledge of serial killers. Trust me, he's the best at what he does. You'll need him."

She stood there while the men left the park together. Natalie headed back to the dead girl and her crime scene. She thought about McBain and wondered what Jerry had meant. _...an intimate knowledge of serial killers..._ He was a puzzle. She glanced at the body again and sighed. She had a much more urgent puzzle to solve. "Don't worry, we'll find him," she promised, under her breath.


	2. Chapter 2

Kismet pt.2

Natalie was tired. She just spent three more hours at the park, checking and re-checking everything they had found at the scene of that poor girl's death. She had been tortured. It was so much worse than the other two bodies had been. Why? Why now? The girl couldn't be more than 19, though she doubted she was that old. It was too hard to tell with her face in such bad shape. Natalie stalked into the police station, slamming the door behind her. Her officers saw her coming and quickly scattered throughout the building. They knew not to bother her when she was this angry. This guy, whomever he is, would pay. She saw her uncle in his office on the phone and decided to wait to see him. It would be better if she calmed down anyway. She went to her office and opened the door and froze.

"Make yourself at home," she snapped, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her.

John McBain had his back to the door. He was sitting on the very organized desk and studying the enlarged photos that he had taken the liberty of hanging on the wall. She was pissed, and for some reason that made him want to smile widely. He fought the urge and slowly stood from her desk. "Detective," he spoke, staring at her a little longer than he intended. She was gorgeous. There was no denying that fact. In fact, she got hotter when she was angry. Her red hair was the color of fire.

"I'm pretty sure I locked this door behind me when I left," she pointed out, taking another step away from the door. Her green eyes scanned the photos on the wall, the papers spread all over the chair and even the floor. She met McBain's eyes again, trying really hard not to actually reach out and slap him. She watched him move from behind the desk.

"How sure?" he goaded. He knew he broke in here and set up shop, and she knew it too. He wondered where she would take this?

Natalie sighed. She was tired. She hung her coat up on the hook behind her door and walked past the agent. His eyes never left her and she found herself focussing on the disarray of her office. Anything to avoid those piercing eyes. He unnerved her and she hated it. "Weren't you going to find a hotel?"

This time he did grin. "I wouldn't sleep anyway." He came back to his original position, and sat beside her on the edge of her desk.

She looked at him for a moment and he looked back. This was weird. What was it about this guy, who she was pretty sure she didn't even like? They were still staring at each other when her uncle came into the room.

Bo stopped short, witnessing the closeness between his niece and the Federal Agent. They both looked at the photos on the wall as he entered the room. He smiled slightly. "When did you get in?" he asked quickly. He watched Natalie scurry over to him.

"Just got here," she mumbled. "You were on the phone." Natalie felt like an idiot. This was ridiculous! "So since we're ALL here," she turned toward McBain, "invited or not, why don't we get to work?"

Bo closed the door. He glanced at his watch. It was almost two in the morning, and his son's baseball tournament started in about seven hours. He walked over and shook Agent McBain's hand. "Why don't you tell us what you know? Why you're here?"

John liked this man. He was direct and honest. He had been with the bureau for a lot of years now, and was used to working with people who would sell their grandmother to move up the ladder. Bo Buchanan was not one of those men. "I stumbled upon this guy about two years ago in Ohio. He was working at a recycle depot and finding his victim's within a five mile radius of his place of employment."

"How many victim's?" Natalie asked, swallowing. Her throat felt dry. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to that question.

"There were five girls killed in Ohio, two more in Montana, and three in Texas." John paused, looking at the mutilated face of victim number thirteen. "We don't know nearly enough to identify this guy. He changes professions with each new location. He sticks to killing young women of various shapes and colors. All have been between the ages of fifteen and twenty-one." McBain reached into an army duffel bag on the floor and pulled out more files. He threw them onto Natalie's desk. The two Buchanans sorted through the information while he continued to catch them up. "We know from eye witness accounts that he is indeed male, but they are not accurate with height, weight, color. Everyone saw something different." He watched the redhead again. She was taking this case to heart. She was furious, it was coming off of her in waves and that would fry her out. He knew from personal experience that being too involved was a dangerous thing. "His job changes with each new location, which means his killing ground changes. He keeps to a five mile radius. We don't know how he chooses his victims, or what sets him off?" He paused again, running his hand over his face in frustration. He hated knowing so little about this creep. "Each victim has a scrabble piece shoved in their mouth, sometimes down their throat. It is always S3. No other alphabet or number. The girls are sexually assaulted only after death." John ripped the photo of the mutilated girl's face from the wall. "We know he's growing more violent with each kill. The three women killed here in Llanview have been more visibly marked and tortured before death. He strangles the girls with his bare hands, but has recently started using a hunting knife with a serated edge to play with them before strangulation." John laughed but it was a cold sound. "He's leaving them out in the open now, rather than conceilling them under brush or dirt or whatever. This bastard is going to kill more often now. No more waiting weeks or months between bodies."

Natalie stopped looking at the papers in front of her and started watching McBain. Something changed in him while he was talking? He was slightly more irritated. Not out of control, but...there was something? He was talking in absolutes. That was it. He was sure he knew what this guy would do next. Not guessing, or even reasonably confident, but absolutely certain. A shiver travelled her spine at that thought. _What happened to him? _she wondered for the second time.

"This guy is not going to stop. He'll get worse now. He's smart. There is never physical trace on the bodies. Not once. His only calling card is the scrabble piece." The room was silent for a few moments before Bo and Natalie realized that he was done talking.

"Alright," Bo began, hating this day more than anything. Why did this freak have to come to his town? He was worried, afraid for Llanview. "We can't do anything more tonight. The lab results will be in sometime in the morning." He looked at Natalie intensely. "Don't stay up all night. That's an order." He walked over to John and shook his hand again. "I realize that I have no authority here, but that goes for you too." John laughed. Bo shouted good night as he left the room and then the building. He was going home to see his son.

Natalie and John stood across the room from one another while it filled with tension. "So you never answered one question?" she asked boldly. She wanted the answer. John clearly didn't know what she was talking about? "Commissioner Buchanan asked you why you were here?" She paused, and he said nothing. "Why you?"

"I've been following this guy for two years."

"And that's it? It's your case?" She wanted the truth. The whole story.

John walked forward and stopped directly in front of her. He loomed over her and they were both affected by the closeness. "I'm here because I know how to catch these guys. I can help you."

She still wasn't satisfied. "Jerry said you had an intimate knowledge of serial killers. What did he mean by that?"

John wanted to kiss this woman. She was tough. The tougher she was, the more he found himself liking her. He crossed his arms over his strong chest, and was pleased by her involuntary intake of breath. He liked that he affected her, because she definitely affected him. "You don't happen to know where I can find a good hotel do you?"

He was changing the subject. "There's the Domino Hotel on the highway as you come into town," she offered, standing her ground. Truthfully, she was starting to enjoy this cat and mouse game of theirs.

"Yeah. I passed that dive on the way in."

She smiled. "Well, I thought it was more your speed, but you are an FBI agent so I'm sure you're capable of locating something more suited to your needs?" There was no way on this earth she was going to help him. This was too much fun. He leaned closer, and she forgot all about the fun she was having. His lips were so close she could feel his breath.

"I'll see you in a few hours," he purred, his voice low.

It was the sexiest sound she has ever heard. Then he grabbed his duffel bag and left without looking back. Natalie stood there for a moment, trying to get her heart rate back to normal. She shook her head. What just happened there? He was a complete stranger. An attractive stranger, but his instant affect on her was bothersome. She was just tired, that's all. She needed sleep, and maybe some food? McBain had flirted with her since he got here, so naturally she would be receptive but tomorrow they would get down to business. The bad guy was still out there, and she believed the agent when he said that there would be more bodies. She had to stop that from happening. She had to focus on her job...and not a certain pair of blue eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi everyone! I have been lurking on for awhile, but am just learning the "posting" procedures as I go so bear with me. LOL Obviously, by this point you notice this is an AU story. Anyway, I just wanted to say hi and thanks for reading. :)

ps-I'm upping the rating of this story to M since it will ultimately be that for the most part.

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><p>Kismet pt.3<p>

The diner was unusually busy for two in the afternoon. Natalie made her way over to the counter and was greeted with a wide smile. "Hi Carlotta. Can I get the usual?" The woman placed a brown bag on the counter and poured two cups of fresh coffee for her. "Why so nuts today?"

"Oh, the baseball tournament just wrapped up." She studied Natalie for a moment before speaking again. "You look tired."

Natalie laughed. "Thanks. You know just what to say." Then she felt a strong arm wrap around her waist from behind.

"Hello beautiful," a deep voice whispered against her ear. "Hey mom." Carlotta smiled wider and walked out to serve some tables fresh coffee.

Natalie turned around. "Hey you," she said happily. She got serious. "I should have called, I'm sorry."

Christian Vega continued to smile. "It's fine. You've been busy."

"And I'm gonna get busier, Chris. In fact, I have to get back. I don't know when I'll be able to call?"

He leaned forward and placed a light kiss on her lips. "You'll call when you can."

She was smiling again, but only for a moment because that was when she spotted him in the doorway.

Chris turned and saw a dark haired man watching them from the entrance. Natalie was looking grim, and staring back rather intensely. Christian's stomach tightened slightly. The man came forward.

"Is this for me?" he asked casually, reaching for one of the take-out coffees on the counter.

Natalie placed her hands on the cups. "No." They were staring again and the man was grinning slightly.

"I can get you some coffee," Christian offered, holding out his hand. John took it. The two men were sizing each other up. "Christian Vega."

"John McBain."

After an uncomfortable moment, Chris went behind the counter and served the coffee. He turned to find Natalie standing there with her arms across her chest. McBain was leaning on the counter meeting her sharp gaze. There was a familiarity between them and he didn't like it one bit. "So are you a cop?"

"He's a Fed," Natalie offered, turning away from John and his intrusive stare. She shouldn't behave this way in front of Christian...or at all, for that matter. McBain just had a way of getting under her skin with his very presence. "We're working a case together." Natalie grabbed the bag on the counter and the cups of coffee. "I'll see you at the station," she said quickly, still not looking at John. Then she left.

John focussed his attention on the young man across the counter. He didn't like him. Not because of anything he said, but because he kissed the redhead. He didn't like him. "Thanks for the coffee."

"No problem. So a Fed? And you're working with Natalie?" The man nodded, saying nothing. "Is it a big case?"

John laid a bill on the counter and took the hot drink. "They're all big. Thanks again." Then he left for the station. That was interesting. He wanted to learn more about Detective Buchanan and Mr. Vega.

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><p>Bo was on the phone when his niece strolled into his office and placed a muffin and cup of coffee on his desk. He smiled and she left as quietly as she had come. The door clicked softly behind her and she ran right into Agent McBain. He grabbed her arms, steadying her, and she held her breath for a split second before shrugging out of his grasp. "Sorry," she said weakly, feeling her anger build. It was irrational. She was the one who ran into him, but she was angry at him anyway.<p>

"You could have waited," he suggested, referring to the diner.

Natalie smiled sweetly. "Why would I do that?" Then she brushed past him and went into her office. He was right behind her. "So you've been mysteriously absent all morning? Did you sleep late?"

"Why so interested in my sleeping habits?"

Alright, enough was enough. "Listen," she was pissed again and glaring at him, "this is my case. I want to know what you've been up to for the past eight hours, because no one has seen or heard from you."

"You want..." he repeated slowly, growing angry now himself. "I've been working this case for two years and you've been on it for about five minutes, so you'll just have to excuse me if I don't go running to you over every little decision. Back off, Detective!"

Her hands went to her hips and she walked right up to him. "No, I don't think so. You came to us. We're supposed to be working together on this, but we can't do that if you leave me in the dark and go off to do God knows what?" He was still angry, but was considering what she said. "So?"

"So I was checking out elementary schools, garages, and recycle depots." Now it was her turn to be confused and not know what he was talking about? "Our guy held these three jobs in past locations. It's unlikely that he is working them again, but I was checking out any new employees in these fields who arrived in Llanview within the past four months."

Natalie gestured toward a chair and John sat in it. She went to her desk and sat across from him. "I could have helped with that."

He sat a little straighter. "You were busy here. Going over lab results, testimonies, evidence. Both of us out there would have been a waste of time." There was that tension again. The tension that always seemed to come between them. "We can't afford to waste time."

"John, tell me how you know so much about serials?"

He liked the sound of his name coming from her lips. "Tell me about Christian Vega?"

She sat back, more than a little shocked at his directness. They haven't been direct so far, why start now? "That's personal," she said, meeting his eyes again. They were almost hypnotic.

He felt his pulse spike when their eyes connected. Things were definitely changing quickly between them. "Exactly," he answered.

The door to her office opened, thankfully interrupting a moment that she didn't know how to describe, other than intense. That was definitely the word to use for McBain.

"Detective Buch..." The officer stopped in mid-sentence feeling very uncomfortable. He hasn't been on the force long, but he knew something was going on in this room. "Sorry, I..."

Natalie waved off his apology. "It's fine. What do you have for me?" The young man came forward and handed her a lab report regarding the scrabble piece from the victim's mouth. "Thank you Davis." He nodded, looked at McBain, and then darted from the office.

John was grinning again. That was just funny. Natalie handed him the form. He glanced at it and his smile slipped slightly.

"What?" she asked, getting to know his reactions pretty well.

He jumped from the chair and started flipping through the files of the Texas victims. "This is different," he said, still digging. Natalie took another look at the page and figured out what he was talking about. "Here," he began, showing her another report, "here," he said again.

Natalie felt hopeful for the first time in two months. Since these deaths first began. "Why?" she asked, knowing John didn't have the answer any more than she did. The puzzle piece that had been in the latest girls mouth was hand-carved and made of pine. It was not a game piece like the others had been, this one had been made. Crafted, most likely by the killer's own hands.

John leaned forward on her desk, staring at the latest clue to the puzzle. He turned sideways, and she was standing right beside him. He stood up and kissed her.

Natalie was buzzing with this news. It still didn't make sense, but it would. They would figure out what this was supposed to mean, and then they would find the maniac who was torturing young women. She was so caught up in the moment that she didn't realize until it was too late how close they had been. Then he looked at her and her stomach fell because he was kissing her. No, they were kissing each other. She was definitely kissing him back. His tongue slipped into her mouth and she sighed. His hands slid into her hair, gripping it and she felt herself move backwards toward the wall. God, this felt good! She moaned against his mouth and he let her go, taking a few steps back. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were the darkest she has seen them since he got here.

John took another step backward, breaking eye contact. _What the hell was that? _Why did he do that? He looked at her again and she was staring in shock. Neither spoke. Natalie placed a hand over her mouth. He looked at her until he couldn't stand it anymore without touching her, and then he walked out of the room.


	4. Chapter 4

I apologize, but I'm having problems with the spacing while uploading, and so I've inserted the lines to separate segments. Bare with me. :)

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><p>Kismet pt.4<p>

"Buchanan," Natalie said, answering her phone. It was almost midnight so who...? She grabbed her forehead, remembering. "Chris, hi, I'm so sorry..."

"It's alright, Natalie." There was a pause and he knew she thought he was lying to her. "Really. I get it. We'll have dinner another night."

She smiled softly. "You're pretty great, you know that?"

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh. Can I call you tomorrow?"

"You better." There was another pause, this one a little more awkward than the last. "So is McBain there with you?"

Natalie tensed. "No. I haven't seen him for most of the day." More silence. "I'm sure he's out bothering someone else."

Chris knew he should laugh. She was trying to lighten the mood. "So you don't like the guy then?"

Natalie remembered what it felt like to kiss him and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Not particularly. I don't really know him. Listen Chris, I've still got stuff to get done here so..."

"Yeah sure. Call me tomorrow?"

"Night," Natalie said, hanging up. She was mad again. What the hell was happening with her? She has known McBain for maybe 24 hours, and he has been given way too much influence in that short amount of time. It was stopping right now. She grabbed the files on her desk and headed to her Uncle's office. He would keep her focussed.

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><p>Bo Buchanan, John McBain, and Jerry Hodges sat in the Commissioner's office together and argued.<p>

"I think you're reading too much into this clue, McBain," Jerry said, for the millionth time in the last couple of hours. Has it occured to you that this nut just ran out of scrabble letters?"

John stood up and began pacing the office. "You're kidding right?" Natalie walked in on the heated discussion, more annoyed that she wasn't invited than anything else. She shut the door behind her and glanced at John for a moment. He dropped his eyes and continued his conversation, ignoring her. "This guy is a serial killer, Jerry. Nothing he does is an accident!"

"Really? Thanks for setting me straight. Quantico's got nothing on you."

John stopped moving. He was getting pissed now. "You brought me here to catch this guy right? It's what I do, and let's face it Jerr, I'm better at it than you. So let me do my job?"

Jerry stood up. "Watch yourself, McBain. Your personal history doesn't make you infallable to error. Your way is not the only way."

Bo decided it was time to interupt the two. "I think that this conversation needs to calm down a bit. We're all on the same side here, and want the same thing, right?"

Jerry turned to his friend. "This is a bureau matter, Bo."

"This is my office, Jerr. Let's table this for the morning. Cooler heads and all that." The two men continued to shoot daggers at one another before Jerry grabbed his coat.

"Yeah. I'll see you in the morning. You're buying the coffee."

Bo smiled and shook his friend's hand.

Natalie shut the door behind the retreating agent before turning to McBain. "You really know how to make friends, don't you?"

His lip curled slightly, amused. "It's a gift."

She smiled.

"Is that for me?" Bo asked, interupting. Natalie chuckled and handed the files over to him. "Thanks." Bo flipped through the paperwork and then glanced up to see his niece and McBain standing across the room from one another. They were both staring at him in silence. "Nat, do me a favor and log these back into evidence? I still have to flip through these reports, and want to get home at a relatively decent time tonight. Tomorrow morning I'm spending some time with Matthew. We haven't seen much of each other lately."

"Sure, Uncle Bo." She hesitated for a second, realizing that she called him Uncle Bo. She never did that around others, well, others who weren't family. Then she left for the evidence room.

John breathed for what seemed like the first time since she entered the room. He found Bo staring at him. "What?" he asked, confused.

"Just what is going on with you and my niece?"

John frowned. "What do you mean?"

Bo chuckled. "I'm the Police Commissioner. It's my job to read people, so don't bother playing dumb."

John shifted uncomfortably, not really sure what to say? He certainly didn't know what was going on with him and Natalie? "You know, when I first met you I admired your directness. I'm changing my mind on that now."

Bo smiled and sat down. John took a chair across from him. "Listen, I'm not going to sit here and ask you what your intentions are because they are none of my business. Natalie's a grown woman capable of making her own choices."

"But?"

"But, she's my niece. Which means that no matter how much I like you right now, I will have no problem changing my mind if you mess around with her."

This time John smiled. "Understood." He shook Bo's hand, before heading to Natalie's office.

* * *

><p>"Are you still here?" Natalie asked, walking into her office. John was back on the desk staring at the photographs on the wall.<p>

"Yup." He rubbed his neck, which was getting stiff. He continued to look to the wall. "I'm missing something?"

"Correction," she began, moving to sit beside him, "we're missing something?"

He sighed, starting to really feel worn. He turned to her. "You look tired."

She smiled, still looking straight ahead. "You know, that's the second time someone has said that to me today. It's not very flattering."

He laughed quietly. "So, do you think I'm putting too much emphasis on that clue too?"

Natalie was surprised by him again. He didn't seem the type to doubt himself. "You said it means something. I'm betting it does."

"Why?" His eyes were so intense. They were like gravity. They pulled her in and she couldn't hope to escape.

She didn't want to answer the question so she asked one of her own. "What is this personal history you have with serial murderers?"

John looked away, but only for a second. "Given what's happened between us in just 24 hours, if you still want to know at the end of the next 24," he paused, licking his lips, "maybe I'll tell you?"

"That might be worth waiting for?" He leaned forward, stopping just short of her mouth. Natalie closed the distance. This kiss was different from the last. It was soft but powerful. There was so much more, just under the surface.

John pulled back slightly. He licked his lips again and then straightened up. He was watching her. He just couldn't stop doing that. "You should get some sleep. We have a very long day ahead of us." He went and grabbed his black leather coat and walked to the door. "Tomorrow we're going to follow that scrabble piece and see where it leads, and we're going to do the same thing with all the other differences that have occurred with the Llanview murders. We're missing something and I want to know what?" The connection between them was electric. He had to leave. Then he did leave. Tomorrow was another day.


	5. Chapter 5

Hi! Here's another chapter. I hope you like it?

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><p>Kismet pt.5<p>

Natalie groaned and lay her forehead on the desk. She was beginning to feel like part of the furniture in Bo's office. She sighed, forcing herself back to the computer screen that she has been staring at for over four hours. The clues were useless. The scrabble piece was hand-carved, but completely untraceable. The wood was common, too common to pin-point, and the lettering was stencilled so they couldn't study the killer's handwriting. She ran a hand through her hair in frustration. The tool used to cut the wood had a specific nick in the blade, which could in fact be traced, but only if they found the blade. This guy used common, everyday items and she wanted to scream. John had been right, he was smart. Too smart. She glanced out the open doorway for a moment. _Where was McBain anyway? _He disappeared again.

"Detective Buchanan?" Jarod Hamilton tapped lightly on the wall to get her full attention.

Natalie smiled. "Yeah?" She stood suddenly. "Do you have something?"

He shook his head. "Sorry. Just the three crime scene photos you requested." He came in and laid them down on the desk with one hand, while placing a cup of coffee in front of her with the other. He smiled. "You need this."

"You have no idea how badly. Thanks Jarod." She watched him sit and rub his eyes. "You're tired," she said, stating the obvious.

He grinned again, but it was a slow smile. "Well, I think the only two people who have been here longer than me are you and McBain?"

"Where is McBain anyway?" she asked, glancing to the doorway again.

"I finally convinced him to at least go home and shower, if nothing else. Afterall, he was only hurting us."

Natalie laughed and it felt good. There wasn't much to laugh at these days.

"You should head home for a bit too."

She propped her head up with her hand and yawned. "You first," she ordered.

He stood up. "Deal." Then he turned to leave.

"Hey Jarod?" Natalie called out, stopping him. "I know you're the best forensic photographer we have, but did you finish logging all the shots into evidence? We need to be all over this guy, you know?"

"Yeah."

Natalie couldn't stop trying to convey her urgency. "This guy, he's..."

"Smart," Jarod offered, matter-of-factly.

"Well, I was going to say insane, but okay?" This time he laughed. "We've just got to stop him."

"We will."

Then he left her to her thoughts. _Yeah, we will! _she repeated, not sure if she really believed it.

* * *

><p>John walked out of the tiny bathroom and ran a hand through his wet hair. He felt better. Clean was definitely better, but he was still tired. Sleep would have to wait. He wanted to get back and check on the results of the latest round of lab tests on that scrabble piece. Not too mention the knife wounds from the three Llanview victims. They were different, more bloody. Why? Why here and why now? Serials often got worse over time, but this guy wasn't playing by the rules. The pacing was off. Everything was just a bit too sudden, not a gradual change. "Where are you?" John muttered aloud. His phone rang.<p>

"McBain." It was Jerry, checking in again. "It's been two hours," he snapped, not bothering to hide his annoyance. "The lab results haven't even come back yet." John paced the tiny room in his towel. "When I know something, you'll know something?" He hung up the phone, feeling his neck stiffen slightly.

He sighed and ran a hand over his face. Then he reached for his duffel bag and put on a fresh pair of jeans and shirt. He sat on the bed and put his socks and shoes on, but he froze. Turning slightly, he glanced at the door. There was an envelope half-slid underneath it.

John reached into his bag and pulled out a latex glove. He knelt by the door, studying the envelope, the floor, the door. Studying everything. Then, slowly he picked up the piece of office stationary, being careful not to handle it too much. Inside were photos. He pulled them out. They were photos of him. Him at the park, him outside the station, him at that diner yesterday afternoon.

Walking back to the nightstand by the bed, John picked up his phone and dialed. "Bo? Yeah, it's me. I'm coming in. This bastard just changed the game on us." He hung up and stared ahead, watching the steam seep out of the bathroom. This was something he hadn't expected. John grabbed his jacket and keys. He placed the envelope into a ziplock baggy along with the pictures and headed for the station.

* * *

><p>"So, he didn't tell you anything?" Natalie asked, slightly nervous. She wasn't sure if the killer's changing of the rules was a good thing or not?<p>

Bo nodded, frowning. He was as anxious as his niece. Something was wrong?

John walked into Bo's office, threw his jacket onto a nearby chair, and shut the door behind him. He felt Natalie's eyes on him, but didn't look at her. Instead, he walked to the desk and placed the baggy of evidence in front of the Police Commissioner. Then he waited.

Bo put some gloves on and took a look at what John was presenting to him.

"What?" Natalie asked, annoyed. Bo flashed her the pictures. She frowned. "This guy's watching you? Following you?" She was no longer annoyed. Now she was scared. She watched John take a seat and lean back as though this were the most natural thing in the world. She was annoyed again. "What's wrong with you? This psychopath is stalking you!"

"No," John said, simply, "he's communicating with me."

She pulled a chair over and took a seat beside him. "Explain."

"I'm not his type, Natalie. He isn't going to come after me. He's going to showboat his conquests, rub my nose in it. Use me to up-the-anti, so to speak."

Natalie felt a chill. John was so calm, so clinical. His eyes were expressionless. "You can't know that?" she declared, confused.

"I do know that."

She stared, alarmed. He was so sure. "How do you know?" This time he dropped his eyes. He was still hiding behind whatever had happened to him in the past.

Bo got an officer to take the photos away for analysis. Then he shut the door. "John, I know you understand the seriousness of this, but don't presume to fully understand how this guy thinks. He's being unpredictable."

"I know," John replied, appreciating the warning and concern. "I'll be careful, Bo." Natalie was still watching him, probing him. She wanted to understand, but he wasn't sure he wanted her too.

"How did this guy find out about you?" Bo asked, reclaiming his seat.

There was a pause. "I honestly don't know?" John answered, and he didn't? "I don't do press. My name is left out of the papers, and the majority of the official paperwork. Jerry is credited with leading this case." He ran his hand through his hair again. It was still wet. "I don't know how he found out about me, but he did?" He sighed. "There'll be another girl soon."


	6. Chapter 6

This one is very short, and so I'll be putting up chapter seven immediately. :)

* * *

><p>Kismet pt.6<p>

John heard her coming before he saw her. She rounded the corner of the alley and stalked toward him with purpose. She was furious. "Jarod, make sure you get a shot of this," he instructed, pointing to the dead girl's fingers. Her nails were cracked and bent from struggle. With any luck there would finally be some evidence to find this guy.

"You bastard!" Natalie spat, careful to keep her voice low. She didn't want to make a scene in front of her men.

"Calm down," John said evenly, grabbing her arm just above the elbow and leading her further away.

She jerked free of his grasp, and conscious of the looks they were getting, placed a smile on her lips. "Don't tell me to calm down." Her smile was sweet, but her voice was laced with venom. "Is this the point where you tell me that I am no longer working this case? Because if it is, then you can kiss my a..."

"Alright!" John pulled her out of the alley and into the closest doorway. They found themselves in the kitchen of a locally owned delicateson. When he was sure they were clear of their fellow police officers he released his grip. "Do you think you might find it in you to trust me even a little?"

She almost choked. "Trust? Are you kidding me?" Her voice was rising. "You steal MY case out from under me and expect what exactly? Am I supposed to melt under those blue eyes of yours and accept any scrap you see fit to give me? Guess again McBain!" Whatever small piece of professional decorum she had been clinging to in the alley was long gone. Now she was just angry. "Of all the low life's I have encountered in this job, on both sides of the fence, you are by far the worst! It takes a real son of a bitch to shake your hand and smile while stabbing you in the back!"

John took a deep breath, pushing down the anger that was growing inside him. "Are you finished?"

Natalie blinked, confused by his actions, or inactions as it were. She met his gaze head on and saw something completely unexpected. Contrition.

"You're not off the case," John said, aware of the kitchen staff that were staring at them while they intruded on their space. She opened her mouth to speak, but he silenced her with a shake of his head. "Jerry changed his mind on that hasty decision."

"Really, and when did he do that? When I was driving over here?"

John was growing impatient. "Look Natalie, stop being so naive. It doesn't suit you." That got her attention. "The bureau is about politics. You know it and I know it. Jerry was doing what all good FBI agents do."

"Which is?"

"Well I wouldn't know, would I?" They stared a moment longer and then both smiled despite themselves. "Hodges is a politician, not a cop. He wants fame and glory for the bureau and himself. I pointed out that we need the LPD to do that. So you're not off the case." John met her eyes and felt the usual heat begin to build. "But just to be perfectly clear," he paused, allowing a smile to curl his lip again, "this is my case."

Natalie stopped in front of him and met his gaze in challenge. "In your dreams, McBain." Then she walked back into the alley, leaving him standing in the kitchen.

"You might be right about that," he said softly to himself, before following her.


	7. Chapter 7

Kismet pt.7

John stood apart from the officers who were painstakingly recovering evidence from the latest victim. "She can't be more than 16 years old," he said into his cell. "This one has red hair, though I'm pretty sure that's not her natural color. She's not cut at all, Jerry."

"Agent McBain?" Officer Davis interrupted nervously.

"Hold on a sec," he said into the phone, placing his palm over the mouthpiece.

"You should see this," the young man instructed, returning to the body.

John glanced down the alley at Natalie. Her and Bo were giving a statement to the press, who were gathered trying to get whatever information they could find. He frowned. "I'll call you back, Jerry," he said, turning his attention back to the crime. "What is it Davis?" he asked, moving beside the cop.

The young man swallowed. "There's something in her throat."

John envied this newbie. He wished he could still feel uncomfortable around death and violence. He knelt beside the girl and pushed her chin down with his thumb. There was definitely something in there. "Hand me a flashlight," he instructed, reaching his hand out blindly. When it rested in his palm, he leaned in close to the girl. Whatever it was it was solidly wedged. "Jarod?"

"Yeah, John?"

"Get a shot of this," he ordered, leaning back so the camera could get in tight.

Jarod snapped a couple pictures. "What is that?"

"What is what?" Natalie asked, joining the party. Bo was still down the alley, talking to the mayor on the phone. "Another scrabble piece?"

John leaned in again. "No. It's something else? Somebody get me a..." Natalie handed him a pair of tweezers. "Thanks," he said, flashing a brief look of approval before turning back to the dead girl. He reached deep into her mouth.

"Well?" she asked, impatiently.

John grimaced. "Hold on," he said, tugging. It was stuck pretty good. "There." A thin, plastic tube that looked as though it came from a child's chemistry set was inserted down the poor girl's esophagus...and there was something in it. He turned to Natalie.

She knew he was going to open it. It was wrong. Procedurally, they should wait until they got back to the lab. "Jarod, I want more shots of the girl, of the alley, everything. Get on it," she ordered. "Davis, wait for Commissioner Buchanan to finish up with the mayor and then update him." When it was just them, they both stepped farther away from the scene and any prying eyes. She looked at him for a moment longer and then gave a slight nod. He opened the tube.

"It's a photo," he said, recognizing the paper. He slowly rolled it open and got his first look at the face. John sucked in a sharp breath. He felt as though someone just hit him with a bucket of ice water.

"It's a woman," Natalie said, feeling very, very uneasy about the expression on McBain's face.

John opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He cleared his throat. "It's my fiance."

"Your...?" She was unable to finish her thought, let alone her sentence. Simply put, she was in shock.

John took a deep breath and waved a nearby officer over. He handed him the evidence. "Take care of this," he said, regaining some composure. He slowly turned, meeting her wide-eyed gaze. He said nothing, offered nothing.

Natalie understood. "She's dead," she stated softly. Not asking, just knowing.

"She's dead," he repeated. Then he walked back to the young girl, the reason why they were standing in this alley in the first place.

* * *

><p>Natalie had been on the phone for hours. She was perpetually tired, perpetually hungry, and perpetually frustrated, and quite frankly, irritated by this whole situation and everyone in it. She sighed, reining in her self-pity. She just wished this would be over. That life would go back to normal and that he would be gone. <em>He, who? <em>she found herself wondering.

"Thinking about me again?" McBain asked from the doorway of her office.

Her head shot up, but she didn't answer. Instead she openly stared at him. He was attractive. Black was clearly his color of choice, but it worked well for him, accentuating his demeanor. The mystery and edginess of John McBain was emphasized by his dark look. _Get a grip Natalie! _she scolded, feeling the full weight of her exhaustion now. He stepped forward, closing the door behind him. Then he sat across from her and crossed his elbows over her desk. She met his eyes, unwavering, waiting for his next move.

John pinned her with a heated stare. The things he wanted to do were not professional at all, but that wasn't why he had come in here. He needed to tell her. She needed to know for her own safety. He just didn't want to open himself up again. That's what he would be doing. Leaving himself raw and exposed, making him remember. He glanced over her shoulder seeing the face of an innocent girl, and knew he was being a coward. Then he saw the photo laying face down on her desk, still inside the plastic evidence bag. His Caitlyn. "Caitlyn," he spoke, already feeling a chill spread through him.

"Her name was Caitlyn."

John nodded. "I was pretty new to the bureau when..." He didn't want to do this.

"When she died?" Natalie asked hesitantly.

His eyes sparked. "When she was murdered." He watched as the seriousness of what he was saying sank in. Still, she waited, letting him go at his own pace. He licked his dry lips. "Once upon a time my ego was even bigger than it is now." She smiled weakly, giving him her full attention. "I was working Violent Crimes when I stumbled across my first serial case. It was a rush, you know? Getting into a guy's head and anticipating his next move." He paused briefly, but she was still with him so he kept going. "I was good Natalie. Better than everyone else. I had a knack for figuring out motive and putting together the pieces of an impossible puzzle. I could literally see connections where no one else could." He stopped, and she reached across the desk and took his hand in hers. He let her, hoping for protection from the guilt and shame that was already making him sick to his stomach. He took another breath. "But I was arrogant. I thought...I thought that if I pushed I could get him to make a mistake. Slip up."

Natalie felt as though she had been holding her breath this whole time. She could see his pain, and knew how hard this was for him - to open up to a stranger out of necessity. Her heart was breaking for him. "But that's not what happened."

"No, it's not. I pushed him alright, but he didn't slip up. He set his sights on me." He pulled from her grip and stood, needing some distance. His hand curled around the back of his neck, as though he could literally hold himself together. "I came home from work one night. It was so late, way too late," he said softly, looking at the lamp but not really seeing it. He was somewhere else entirely. "I was so wrapped up in myself that I forgot about dinner. I walked in the front door and threw my keys on the small table in the hall. The light was on in the bedroom, so I walked toward it, catching a glimpse of the table that was still set." He sat back down, but refused to meet her eyes. Not now, he couldn't. "It looked beautiful, and Caitlyn could really cook. She loved to do it." The words were coming out in a rush now, he couldn't stop them. "When I reached the bedroom she was in bed reading, and then the strangest thing happened. She smiled at me. She wasn't even mad. She was wearing this white negligee that I had bought her that year for her birthday. God, I loved that on her." He cleared his throat, which felt swollen, thick. "Her brown hair was down over her shoulders, and she grabbed the blanket and pulled it back on my side of the bed. She said, 'Come here G-man.'" John chuckled, but there was no mirth in the sound. "I joined her and apologized for missing dinner, but she didn't care. She told me there was nothing there that wouldn't reheat." He absently ran a hand over his face. "I kissed her, you know? We were kissing, and she heard a noise. I didn't hear anything at first, but there was another sound coming from the adjoining bathroom, which was on her side of the room. So I came around to check when there was this burning. I felt this searing pain, and when I looked I had been shot. The blood was soaking through my bureau shirt. That's what I liked to call it. You know, the white suit shirt that is standard issue attire? Anyway, I fell backwards beside the bed and reached over with my left hand, grabbing Caitlyn's legs. I couldn't really see anything, but I heard a shot before blacking out. I never even heard the first one. The one that hit me. Caitlyn died instantly, which I guess is a blessing? He posed her in our bed and took a photo of us together. Her dead in our bed and me beside her with blood staining my perfect white shirt."

"John?" Natalie came around the desk and knelt in front of him. "John look at me?" she urged, more forcefully. He did. "I think you should stop now."

He nodded, agreeing with her. It was way past time. She was kneeling before him, looking up at him, her eyes wide and oh-so green. He swallowed. There was no sign of pity like he expected and usually got when others found out the story of his life. He stretched out and gently, slowly tucked a strand of red behind her ear. His finger continued its path, trailing along her jaw, making its way down to her chin. He gingerly rubbed the bottom of her lip with his thumb and met her eyes. There was no pity there, but there was heat.

"John?" she said again, with no conviction behind her protest. Very slowly he took hold of her arms, and stood from the chair bringing her with him. She was pressed against him, unable to tear her eyes away from the intensity of his gaze. The stark need that was there was consuming. Natalie didn't know what to do? This was wrong. He was in pain, but his nearness was wreaking havoc on her common sense. God, he was so close. She closed her eyes, trying desperately to break the connection they had made. To ignore the pull.

A voice in John's head was telling him to stop, to leave now, but he didn't. Instead, he held her tightly, clinging to whatever it was between them like a lifeline. He wanted to forget, and she made him forget. She made him want her. He saw her close her eyes off from him, and for a split second felt guilty for forcing the situation, but when she re-opened them it evaporated. He reached for her, and she him, and they met in a searing open mouthed kiss. _God, what is this? _he wondered, before all thought was lost to him. "Natalie," he breathed, wrapping an arm around her waist and placing her on the desk. They were devouring each other. He felt her tongue against his, in his mouth, on his lips. He wrapped his arms tighter around her for a moment, before grabbing her head and framing her face the way he wanted her to be. She was so soft everywhere. He slid his left hand behind her head, into her hair, while slipping his right hand under her shirt. Her skin was so hot. John broke contact, pulling back to get a look at her but her eyes were closed again. "Natalie, look at me." His voice sounded foreign, not like his at all. She didn't. "Look at me," he insisted, breathing hard. When she finally opened her eyes he saw what he needed to see. That it wasn't just him. That she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Then, as if to reinforce that fact, she pulled him to her and hungrily sought entrance into his mouth. He moaned against her perfect lips, deepening their kiss even more. He wanted all of her. John placed a warm hand on her lower back and slid her closer to the edge of the desk, closer to him.

"Natalie."

He blinked, slowly gliding his lips and tongue down her throat, along her exposed collar bone, and back up the other side of her neck.

"Nat?" he heard again.

Natalie couldn't focus. Every inch of her was on fire. She thought she heard her name, but it didn't sound like John. His sound was distinctive. Then his lips found hers again and she no longer cared. His tongue was masterfully plundering her mouth and his hands were in her hair. She loved that. As suddenly as a slap in the face would have been, John grasped handfuls of her hair and pulled her away from his mouth.

"Natalie, damn it!" a voice said, into the room.

Both of them stayed perfectly still, trying to catch their raging breath. Him, pressed against her like a second skin with his hands fisted in her fiery hair. Her, holding herself up off the desk with her hands behind her back and her legs wrapped around his thighs. They both glanced down at the phone.

Natalie reached over and hit the conference button. "Yeah, Uncle Bo?" They slowly detangled themselves from each other. "Find John and come in here. Jerry's on his way and we want to go over everything about this new...well, detail." She looked at John.

He winced, remembering everything. Remembering Caitlyn and the dead girl.

"Be right there," she answered, hopping off the desk and grabbing the evidence bag with Caitlyn's picture in it. She pulled her mussed hair into a ponytail, straightened herself out, and walked past him opening the door. "I'll tell them you'll join us in a few minutes." Then she left him alone.


	8. Chapter 8

Kismet pt.8

"Where the hell is McBain?" Jerry bellowed, growing impatient. He was tired of sitting in Bo's office staring at the clock. This, right here, was the exact problem he had with Special Agent John McBain. He has worked more cases with the man than he could count on two hands, but found himself dreading them all. John was good, there was no disputing that. Spooky good actually, but he had no respect for authority or the bureau. No respect for procedure. It's always whatever has to be done to get the job done, and that didn't sit well with Jerry. It was just too close to being a vigilante in his book.

Natalie shrugged, about to speak, but then closed her mouth abruptly. What was she going to say? That 30 minutes ago he had a meltdown in her office and then they came dangerously close to ripping each other's clothes off in the middle of the freakin' police station!

"Well?" he asked again, pushing her for an answer.

Natalie frowned. "Well, I'm sitting here with you so how the hell should I know?"

"Alright," Bo interrupted, "I'm sure he'll join us soon." He turned to his niece. "You talked to him, right?"

"Right," she answered, wide-eyed. There was an uncomfortable pause while both men continued to stare at her. "Look," she snapped, squirming slightly, "he was in my office when you called." Still more staring. "He may need some time?" she offered softly.

Under other circumstances Hodge's expression would have been funny. "He told you about Caitlyn?" She nodded. "He told you?" Jerry repeated, more than a little surprised. "John doesn't talk about it. Not ever, with anyone, and that includes the Director of the FBI."

Now Natalie felt more awkward than ever. "Well, he told me." She felt like she was being interrogated.

Bo knew the general details of McBain and the tragic events of his past, but he was willing to stake his pension that his niece was privy to a lot more information. "It's fine, Natalie," he said, before picking up the phone. "Gloria, have you seen Agent McBain around? Fine. If he comes in tell him I want to see him in my office. Thanks."

"Why don't we just get started?" Nat suggested, eager for a change of subject.

Jerry laughed. "Just get started? McBain is now directly involved with this case. The killer sent him a lovely momento to mark the special occasion. We need to talk to him."

"Sent him a momento?" Natalie repeated. "What does that mean?"

"It means that the girl was a gift," John answered, entering the office.

Natalie swallowed. She met his eyes, but they were different, colder. He was all business now. "You're saying that she was killed for you?"

He grabbed a wooden chair, turning it backwards before straddling it. "That's exactly what I'm saying. That's why he killed again so soon, within days of the last. That's why she was found a couple blocks from my hotel, and why she wasn't cut up." He looked at her again, directly at her. "Think of it as gift wrapping."

She tensed. Who was this guy, because it was not the same one that had made her burn with every touch? Every stare. This man was granite, stoney and unreachable, and then a horrible thought struck her. "John? Do you think this is the same guy who...?"

"Who killed Caitlyn? No."

"You're sure?" Bo asked, sharing his niece's doubts.

"Completely sure." John felt like a fraud. He was doing what he always did when his past came back to bite him in the ass. He was detaching, for his own good and the good of those he was supposed to protect, but it was harder this time. Certain green eyes were threatening to break his walls down and that wouldn't do. He needed to focus, to gain some perspective. He needed to be anywhere but beside Natalie Buchanan. "That man is dead and buried. This man is someone new."

Natalie's head was spinning. How can he sit here, casually straddling a chair as though he has no cares in the world? As though a raving lunatic hasn't just targeted him and decided to lure him into sick games of torture and death? Her anger was building again. "You're awfully calm for someone who just got a dead girl for a present?"

"Well this isn't my first time, sweetheart," he spat back, pissed now too. He watched her eyes narrow, and then went back to addressing the room. "I'm willing to bet that the girl wasn't sexually molested after death like the others. Her hair was dyed red, so I've got the lab running tests right now. Maybe we can trace the hair dye? I don't know?" He glanced at Jerry, who has been uncharacteristically quiet this entire time. John didn't relish the private conversation they would inevitably have when this meeting was over.

"John? Why do you think this girl wasn't molested like the others?" Bo asked.

"Well, because she was for me."

"And the photo of Caitlyn?" Natalie asked sharply.

"What about it?" They were both openly rude with each other now.

"You're absolutely sure that this guy is a different guy? That you didn't get it wrong?" She couldn't let this Caitlyn angle drop.

This time Jerry interjected. "Nat, we had it right the first time. Dr. Stephen Haver was absolutely the guy to kill Caitlyn Fitzgerald." He looked at John and saw the raw, open anger that was there. He had been part of the Haver case, and knew without a doubt that Haver had been their guy. John's guy. He also witnessed the full gambit of destructive emotions that the agent had gone through because of Haver. Jerry was worried, because he was seeing some of that again tonight.

"Stephen Haver?" Natalie continued to focus her attention on John. "The Music Box Killer? That was you?"

"Look, damn it!" John shouted, losing his temper now. "Haver was the guy. He was the guy Natalie, and he's dead so can we please focus on the business at hand?"

She leaned back as though he had reached out and slapped her. She glanced at Bo and then at Jerry. They both seemed content to let this go. "Fine." The ring of her phone filled the tiny room. "Buchanan," she answered, her voice clipped. She shot her eyes at John for a second. "Hey Chris, hold on a sec." She placed a palm over the mouthpiece and spoke to her uncle. "So we're done here right?" she asked, trying hard to ignore the elephant in the room. The one sitting directly beside her.

'Yeah, tests won't be back for a few hours and the autopsy is still being done." Bo pretended not to notice the tension that threatened to smother all four of them.

"I'm taking an hour," Natalie said, standing from her chair. When her uncle nodded, she turned to leave. "I could eat," she said into the phone while leaving the room.

"So, we'll call you with the results," Bo said to Jerry, who smiled and nodded his consent.

"Hey Bo," Jerry said, "can we have your office for a moment?"

Bo grabbed his coat. "Just lock it behind you." Then he left.

Jerry slowly focussed his angry stare on his colleague. "We need to have a chat."

John sighed. He knew it was coming. He just didn't want it to be now. Now he was angry. He wanted to break something, and if he would stop lying to himself long enough, he would admit that he wanted that something to be Christian Vega. Damn her, she drove him nuts!

"McBain!" Hodges shouted, finally getting the attention he wanted.

John frowned and gripped the chair tightly. "What?"

Jerry shook his head. Did he think he was stupid? "What the hell are you doing?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" John shouted back, standing.

"Detective Buchanan. You're banging her."

It was a statement, John noted, not a question. He forced a laugh. "I've been here for four days! Though I appreciate the confidence you have in me."

"That's not a denial," Jerry said evenly. They were facing each other.

"There's nothing going on between Na...between the detective and me," John said lying, "but if there were it would be none of your business. My personal life is none of your business."

"McBain, we've worked together for a lot of years on a lot of cases. I think you are one hell of an agent."

John was surprised, but also skeptical. He knew where he and Hodges stood. "But?" he asked, prompting the man to continue his thought.

Jerry sneered. "But I don't like working with you. You know that. You're careless, you take unneccessary risks and that's dangerous. You're dangerous, and I sat here and watched you with the redhead tonight. You're teetering on the edge of a cliff."

John scoffed and bit his lower lip. "You think I'm gonna snap? That I'm crazy?" He didn't bother to hide his amusement.

"No," Jerry replied seriously, "I think you're so wrapped up in yourself that you're missing what's right in front of you."

"And what is that?"

"The dead girl, the one dropped on your doorstep? Her hair was dyed red. Your detective, the niece of one of my oldest friends? Her hair is red." He watched John visibly tense up. "This guy is watching you McBain, taking photos of you, and now he's leaving you presents."

John grabbed his cell from his pocket and made a call. He got Natalie's voicemail.

"There was a time when you would have seen that connection, but now you're letting yourself get distracted." Jerry wasn't pulling any punches. He needed McBain's full concentration on this so they could catch the creep. He grabbed his coat and headed for the door to the office. "And McBain? Your personal life becomes my business when you start fucking away this case. Get your head on straight." He left.


	9. Chapter 9

Kismet pt.9

"Stop," Christian said, grasping her wrist and pulling her closer. He smiled. "Sit," he instructed, leading her to the base of the angel statue that stood guard from the center of the park. She let him lead her. "Let's sit out here for awhile. I'm not ready to share you with my mom yet." He nodded toward the diner and she smiled.

"I'm glad you called when you did," she confessed, taking his hand and resting her head on his shoulder.

"Yeah?"

Natalie lifted her head. "You sound surprised?"

"I guess I am." She was confused, and waited for him to elaborate. "It's just..well, we haven't seen a lot of each other lately."

"Christian, I told you I was going to be busy. This case is a tough one."

"I know your job is important, Natalie. We've been together for a year and a half now. I'm very used to the long, crazy hours." He ran a hand through his brown, wavy hair.

She was suddenly very nervous. She watched him struggle with what he wanted to say, and that wasn't like him. "If it's not the job, then what's bothering you?"

He looked at her, his eyes intense. "It's McBain, or rather you and McBain."

Natalie pulled her hand away. It was involuntary, but she was completely caught off guard. "What does that mean? What about John and I?"

Chris stood slowly. He crossed his arms over his chest, determined to say his piece. "You like him don't you?"

"What?" Natalie stood now too, furious with him. She wasn't entirely sure she had the right to be, given that McBain has been in her life for four days and she has kissed him on three separate occasions. It didn't matter. Right or wrong, she was mad. "Let me get this straight. You see me together with John for all of five minutes and you've decided that I'll be riding off into the sunset with him?" Her eyes blazed.

Chris stayed silent, watching her closely, and for the first time felt as though she were a stranger to him. Not the woman he fell so hard for. "Actually, what I said was that you liked him. Judging by your reaction I hit a nerve." His face was grim.

"Chris, I.." she stopped herself, not really sure what to say to him, so she kissed him. Natalie stood on her toes and kissed him, trying to show him what he meant to her. After several minutes, they pulled apart and she sank back onto her feet, watching. Waiting for something, only she didn't know what? "Chris," she began again, her eyes pleading, "I don't want to fight with you. I hate fighting with you. Please don't be mad at me?"

He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. "I'm not mad, Nat. I guess I'm just confused," he smiled weakly, "and maybe a little insecure?"

Natalie returned his smile and moved closer to him. Her arms wrapped around his waist. "You have nothing to be insecure about Chris, trust me." She watched him bend to her and they were kissing again. She liked kissing him. He felt good, and she sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck. The kiss deepened, and her mind flashed to another kiss. An explosive kiss. Natalie pulled back and found Chris staring at her.

"What?" he breathed.

"Nothing," she lied, shaking her head and claiming his lips again more aggressively. His tongue was in her mouth and she thought about a strong hand gripping her hair and pressing her into a wall. He trailed kisses along her slender neck and she remembered the heat of a hand that pulled her toward the edge of her desk. Her body began a slow burn. Natalie sighed and closed her eyes, feeling Christian make his way back to her mouth. She slowly ran a hand along the side of his face, expecting facial hair where there was none and blue eyes staring back at her, not brown. Natalie yanked free of Christian's grasp, panting. She held back the tears that threatened to show.

Chris frowned, catching his breath. "Natalie?"

Her phone vibrated against her waist, distracting her. She answered it. "Buchanan. Don't order me around John!" she shouted into her phone. "What? Listen, I..." The look on her face said it all. McBain hung up on her and she was furious beyond reason. "I have to go," she barked, before storming out of the park without looking back.

Christian stood there for a moment, trying to make sense of what just happened? They had a perfectly good dinner once he pried her away from the station. She was laughing and talking and smiling. He knew she wanted to be there with him, even if a small part of her was thinking about the case. That's one of the things he loved about her. She was beautiful when she was focussed on something, or some might say consumed by it. After dinner, they decided to walk through Angel Square on their way back to the diner. He knew that his views on the agent would not be received well, so he debated about whether or not to bring it up at all, but in the end he had too. She had been mad, but what really bothered him was how mad she had gotten, and how quickly. When he first saw them together at the diner, he knew in his gut there was something to worry about, even if she didn't, but then she kissed him and he could feel a lot about what she wanted him to know. He was important to her. She didn't want to let him go so he kissed her back. It had been good, like it always was, but after a few moments something changed in her. The kiss was hot, and he felt that heat coursing through her, wanting more. Only just like that, it was over. He still couldn't figure out what happened?

Chris shook his head. Maybe he never would?

* * *

><p>John was still in Bo's office using his computer when he heard the slam of a door and then a shout. "Where is he?" he heard, right before she came in and pinned him with a look that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. She slammed the door behind her, and he could see the few officers that were in the lobby finding urgent work elsewhere. He wanted to grin but thought better of it. Now was clearly not the time. He met her heated gaze. "You seem upset."<p>

Natalie wanted to shoot him. She stalked forward, placing her fists on the desk and leaning toward him. "Do not hang up on me agent," she spat, "not ever."

He stood and mimicked her stance, also leaning on the desk. Their eyes were glued to one another. "I didn't have time for your hysterics." John was astounded by her anger. She was actually turning red. "I needed to talk to you about something important." Then he walked across the room and closed the blinds to the office.

"What?" she asked, barely able to get that out. She was still so mad at his arrogance, his audacity. He thought he could do whatever he wanted and it infuriated her.

"After you left for your hot date, Hodges and I got into it a little bit."

"And I care why?"

John bit his lower lip for a moment, trying not to turn this conversation into a sniping contest. "He pointed out something to me, that I should have seen myself." There was a pause while they just stared at each other. The tension was palpable. "Something I would have seen if I was focussed on the job and not..." He stopped and watched her eyes widen briefly. "Something I should have seen myself," he said again.

Natalie felt her heartbeat speed up at his unspoken admission. She looked down and mentally shook herself. This wasn't happening. She had to remember that she had Christian, who was wonderful. She had to remember that Special Agent John McBain was a horses ass. She met his eyes again, feeling more secure in her anger. "Am I supposed to guess?"

"Jerry pointed out that the victim from the alley had her hair dyed red, and that you have red hair." He continued to watch her sort out the implication of what he was suggesting to her. "He pointed out that the girl was a gift to me, and that this psycho is watching me." John walked back to the desk, feeling the need for a barrier between them.

"You think that I'm in danger," she said, realizing what this conversation was costing both of them. Her being a target meant that she was in some way important to John McBain. She was something he could lose. Natalie's throat felt like the Sahara Desert. My god, was it hot in here?

He tore his eyes from her and began clicking the mouse, giving the computer his attention. "You could be," he admitted quietly.

She sank into the chair, needing something more solid than her legs beneath her. "So is there anything else?" she asked, somewhat reluctant.

He turned and pinned her with the full force of his blue eyes. "What else would there be?" He was teetering on the edge of that cliff again.

"I meant with the case," Natalie croaked.

"Not yet." John's chest felt heavy as he continued to look at her. Her hair was still in a ponytail and he had to resist an overwhelming urge to remove it and tangle himself in her fiery locks.

"I need to ask you something?" Natalie steeled herself against the man who was making her melt from the inside out. "That picture of Caitlyn we found in the alley?"

Just like that the fire was doused. John sat back stiffly. "What about it?"

"When was it taken?"

He frowned. "Why do you want to know?"

She felt the tension creep up her bones, seizing her muscles. It amazed her how quick she was to anger around him. "I'm doing my job, John. Was the photo a copy or an original? And if it was the original, how did he get it? Why did he want it? If Haver was the man who killed your fiance, then why is this guy using Caitlyn to get to you? Why now, and not in Ohio, or Montana, or Texas?"

"I get it Natalie!" he snapped. "I get it alright."

Her eyes softened. "I know you don't want to remember." He just looked at her with those expressionless eyes. The ones he showed to the world when he was hiding himself. "I know."

John turned off the computer and suddenly stood. "I'm going to get some sleep," he announced, slipping his black leather jacket over the short sleeved black t-shirt he wore. The one that showed off the tatoo band around his right bicep. "I'll be back," he said. "Oh, and lock this behind you." Then he was gone.


	10. Chapter 10

Kismet pt.10

Natalie yawned loudly, unable to stop the impulse anymore than she could stop breathing. She was exhausted and her body was crying out for sleep. The clock on the wall read 4:19am. _What are you doing Natalie? _she wondered, rubbing her watery eyes. After John left the office, she had followed suit, but made sure to take a box of stuff with her. Stuff that was now piled all around her, blanketing her tan, livingroom carpet. Sinking back against the couch, she laid her head on the red seat cushion and stared at the ceiling fan that turned above her. This guy, this killer of young girls was out there somewhere and probably trolling for another victim right now? _No!_ she realized, looking at the clock again. He was probably sound asleep somewhere under some anonymous roof? Afterall, nightmares or guilt wouldn't keep him awake. She sighed, lifted her heavy head off the pillow, before reaching for the picture of Caitlyn.

The woman was beautiful. She had dark hair that draped over her slender shoulders, which were bare in the photograph. She wore a red tank top with spagetti straps, and a comfy pair of jean shorts that had a tear along the seam on the right leg. Natalie licked her lips, analyzing the scene for the 100th time tonight. She couldn't help it. John's fiance was captivating. Her eyes sparkled and were a deep, deep brown. Her eyelashes were long and gorgeous. She had full red lips, and they were completely natural. No lipstick for her. Natalie frowned, feeling a second of shame at her jealousy of a dead woman. She shook her head and refocussed. John was not the issue here, she reminded herself, Caitlyn was the issue.

In the photo, the woman was happy. That was what stood out the most. Her smile was wide, touching her eyes and lighting her face for the world to see. She was sitting on a park bench that was cracked and faded, from the weather no doubt? She faced the camera, looking directly into its lens, obviously comfortable with the photographer. It was probably John, and she felt herself frowning again. Caitlyn's left hand stretched out beside her and covered a stack of books and a binder. Natalie looked closer. There was an emblem on the spine of the binder. Brown University. She was still in school here, 22 or 23 years old maybe?

Why did the killer leave this photo - not a wedding picture, or a shot of her and John together? It just didn't make sense. She knew that this was important, just like McBain had known with the scrabble piece. This creep was trying to tell them something and they were missing the message completely.

"Damn it!" she shouted out, slamming the photo to the floor and standing. She held her forehead for a moment, before running her hand through her hair. She was going to drive herself crazy over this if she wasn't careful. A car alarm went off on the street, and Natalie strode across the room to the front window. She glanced through the lace curtains, analyzing the deserted pavement. There was nothing there. Her neighbour came bursting out of his front door, swearing and pointing his keychain at the car. The noise stopped. Then he went back inside, slamming the door behind him. The lights went out, and she glanced along the street one more time. Still nothing there. John's warning tonight had spooked her more than she wanted to admit.

Natalie walked from the room, into the adjoining kitchen for a glass of water. She felt the cool liquid slide down, but it didn't help. She grabbed a bottle from the cupboard and poured amber liquid into her glass, pausing, and then poured some more before reaching for some ice. "Bottoms up," she said aloud, slamming the drink back. Her face soured at the sting of the straight tequila. Then she poured herself another shot and went back to the couch, sitting on it rather than the floor. She didn't think her ass could take it?

Reaching down, Natalie grabbed a file and sat back with it. She put her drink on the carpet and brought her legs up onto the piece of furniture. Turning so the arm propped her up comfortably, she opened the file and stared at the face of the man who stole John McBain's life. Dr. Stephen Haver. She studied him closely, particularly the eyes, but there was nothing telling there. Whatever heinous crimes he was committing at the time, he masked them well. It was just a photograph. She shivered, remembering that he had been a guest speaker at Llanview University once. Her sister Jessica had actually really admired him at the time, and attended the lecture. Natalie shivered again, realizing what this man could have done to her family if he had stayed in town, but he didn't. Instead he moved on and terrorized her old stomping grounds, Atlantic City. She absently grabbed the glass and sipped her drink, anxious to remove the chill that was sweeping through her. She decided to think about safer, less traumatizing things, like her house. Glancing around the room, she felt content. For the first time she had a place all her own. It's true she was a Buchanan, and technically could buy this entire neighborhood if she chose, but she was a Balsom first and foremost. The tough girl from Atlantic City who raised herself and a little brother when he was around, long before she discovered her true birth parents and became an heiress. She hadn't had the happy childhood that most did, and never really thought about the future or what it held for her. Now, here she was, sitting on a couch that was hers in a house that she owned. She smiled, well almost owned, with a little help from the bank - and she was a detective of all things. She has definitely come a long way from her Atlantic City days.

Closing the file, which she could recite at this point, she sank down into the couch and let the papers fall to the floor. Then she found herself mesmerized by the ceiling fan again. Sighing, Natalie brought an arm up and rested it on her forehead. She needed sleep. She needed to catch this guy, and she needed... Natalie closed her eyes, refusing to finish her thought. Then she finally found some rest.


	11. Chapter 11

Kismet pt.11

Natalie stood in the doorway of her office, and wondered how many times she would walk in on this scene. John sat with his back to the door and stared at the wall, concentrating. There was a slight difference this time though. He was staring at maps instead of pictures. Maps of Llanview and the park. She strode forward. "You may set off the smoke alarm if you keep thinking so hard?" She stopped beside him, and he was smiling. She yawned.

John chuckled, amused by her embarrassment. "You should sleep more," he suggested, turning back to the wall.

"Why didn't I think of that?" He was smiling again. "So what are we doing?" she asked, taking a good look at the maps. He had circled five mile patterns around each murder location, including the one in the alley. He pointed to the area where the circles met.

"I think our guy may hold a job down in this area."

She stepped closer, taking a real good look. "It's still a big area."

"Uh-huh."

She turned to him, propping herself up against the wall. "But it's a place to start, right?" She was impressed, despite herself. "So I guess you could maybe possibly sometimes know what you're doing on occasion, maybe by accident, huh?" They were both smiling. Then he hopped off the desk and moved closer, also leaning against the wall. Their eyes locked. Natalie thought her heart might actually beat right out of her chest.

"So I guess that it's not inconceivably out of the realm of this plain of existence that you are capable of giving a compliment, huh?" She laughed. "And what about trust?" he asked, more seriously. "Are you capable of that?"

She licked her lips. "That depends."

"On what?"

She wanted him to touch her. "On you?" Her voice was soft, alluring. She was flirting with him she realized, before a clear of the throat drew her attention to the doorway.

John frowned and reclaimed his seat on the desk. "Hodges."

"McBain." Jerry stepped into the room. "Natalie," he smiled at her. "What's with the maps?"

John didn't bother to hide his obvious annoyance at the interruption. He grabbed a felt and circled the search area. "We're going to start canvassing this area. It fits the five mile radius pattern."

"Good." He looked at his co-worker. "That's smart."

John turned slowly, pinning Jerry with a look of contempt.

Natalie watched the exchange and then stepped between them. "If you're looking for the Commissioner, he's in his office."

Jerry nodded, flashing a knowing grin. "Thanks." He left them alone.

Natalie shut the door and turned her attention to McBain. "I know that you have this whole _intense _thing going on, but are you trying to get yourself fired?" She saw him visibly relax, and walked closer, grinning. "You wanted to deck him, didn't you?"

John laughed. "A little," he admitted. They both sat on the desk and glanced at each other. He broke the silence. "So you think I'm intense, huh?"

"A little." His eyes shimmered. They were smokey, and there was no masking the blatant desire that shone from them. They were too close. Hopping off the desk, Natalie swung around and hit the conference button on the phone. "Davis, get in here." She moved away as the officer strode into the room.

"Yes, detective?" he asked, looking nervously at McBain.

She took the map from the wall and showed him the search grid. John was staring at her but she ignored it, ignored him. "I want people canvassing immediately, looking for any new employees in any position over the last four months." He just stood there. "Now Davis," she snapped. The officer nodded and left the office very quickly.

"You seem tense," John said from behind, slowly making his way toward her.

She couldn't see him, but she knew he was approaching. The temperature in the little office seemed to be soaring. Then he was right behind her, a breath away. Not touching her, but so close, too close. She swallowed, not moving. "I think this case is getting to me?"

John reached out and lightly took her left hand, holding it, studying it. "Are you sure it's the case getting to you?" His voice rasped next to her ear and he heard her breathe in sharply.

Her spine stiffened. "I'm sure," she said, running for the door. Her hand was on the handle and the door was opening a crack, but that's as far as she got.

Before he knew what he was doing, John stretched out, closing the door. He lifted his other arm, trapping her, and then waited and watched. She didn't move. The hand that had been on the doorknob slid against the wood and then flattened against the fogged glass, but still she didn't move. She was breathing though. "Natalie," he whispered, inching closer, "stop running from me." He could feel her body heat rival his own. She relaxed just enough, allowing her body to rub against his, and he felt as though an electric current shot through him upon contact. What was it about this woman that drove him to madness? He should be hunting for a serial killer, but instead he was here, seducing a colleague and he couldn't seem to care. He wanted to lose himself in her.

"Let me go, John," she croaked, not sure where the strength came from to get the sentence out? He dropped his arms from the door, but didn't move away and she closed her eyes from the wanting that was consuming her. When she didn't attempt to leave, a warm hand snaked around her waist, resting on her stomach. She felt his chest pressing against her back and his breath in her hair, and thought she might spontaneously combust at any moment. Very slowly, Natalie turned and forced her eyes to meet his. It was a mistake. Neither spoke, but she didn't think she could use her voice if her life depended on it.

He found her waist, and grabbed the belt that was there tightly, pulling her forward. Her hands were wide on his chest, and he could feel his skin burn from her touch even through the fabric of the long-sleeved knit shirt he was wearing. Their eyes were completely focussed on each other. John melted his body against hers, pinning her to the flat surface of the door, and he saw her eyes close for a second, absorbing the feel of him. He kept his mouth close to hers, hovering, and lifted his arms to the wood to hold himself away. She opened her eyes again, and they were glazed over with desire. He saw the passion that she so desperately wanted to hide from him. John rested his forehead against hers for a moment, fighting for control, but lost the battle quickly. He brushed his lips over hers and then found her eyes again. They opened their mouths and he felt her tongue for a split second, before a knock on the door echoed through the space like a gong.

Natalie blinked, jumping slightly at the sharp rap coming from behind her head. She was having trouble catching her breath, and watched McBain walk behind the desk and take a seat. She knew first hand that he was not ready to receive visitors. She felt that very clearly a moment ago. Rubbing a nervous hand over her face, she opened the door and found Officer Davis standing there looking sheepish. "Yes," she asked evenly.

"Sorry, detective. I thought you might want to see the autopsy report for the latest girl right away."

She took the report. "Yeah. Thanks Davis," she said, closing the door in the kid's face. John had a hand over his mouth and was clearly amused by the situation. Her eyes narrowed. "I'm glad you find this funny."

"Oh come on, Nat. It's a little funny."

She surpressed her smile. "No it's not," she chastised. Clearly he disagreed. Natalie came over and sat across from him, looking at him closely. "John," she began, sounding as exasperated as she felt, "what is this?"

He sighed and leaned on the desk, looking just as closely at her. "I have no idea," he confessed, "but it keeps happening, so it's gotta be something?"

She broke eye contact and started looking at her hands. "Not if we stop it."

"You still don't trust me."

That made her look up. "I can't afford to trust you John, not the way you want me too." He frowned, not saying anything. She continued. "We're going to get this guy, I know it, and then the case is over." He just kept looking at her, already knowing what she was going to say. "...and then you'll be gone."

He leaned back in the chair and ran a palm through his hair. What could he say to that, it was the truth? When this was over he would be assigned another case, and that would be that. "So can I see the report?" he asked, avoiding the issue entirely. She passed it to him. "The girl in the alley, she wasn't assaulted like the others."

"John?" Natalie said, nervously. "I need you to answer something for me?"

"What?" he asked.

"The picture." She watched him get annoyed, and well on his way to angry. She pressed on. "Did you take the photo?"

"No," he answered quickly, surprised by the question. "It was taken about a year or so before I met Caitlyn. Why?"

Natalie shrugged. "She just looked happy. I thought she may have been with you."

There was an uncomfortable silence, and then John stood and headed for the door. "I'm gonna go help with the canvassing." He turned to her. "You coming?"

"No. I've got a few things to do." The tension was insurmountable.

"Okay." He left the office and then the building.

Natalie glanced at the map and grabbed her jacket. She did in fact have something to do.


	12. Chapter 12

Kismet pt.12

John sat in Natalie's chair with his legs up on the desk and his hands behind his head. He closed his eyes, trying to see the connection that he was missing. He was so close he knew, but still couldn't touch it. It was just out of reach. The victims in Ohio had been strangled by hand, but there had been no sexual assault of the corpses until the fifth and final girl. The killer had worked at a recycle depot, spending eight hours a day sorting cans. The first girl killed had been a psych major at Ohio State, who was found on a campus located three miles from the recycle depot. The second had worked construction at a site downtown. That was four miles from the depot. Both the third and fourth victims had been found at opposite ends of a public park, which stood just under three and a half miles away from the depot. The fifth girl had died outside of the skating arena, but she had been different. The arena was five miles away, which fit the pattern, but her body had been raped after strangulation.

John opened his eyes and reached for the bag laying beside the phone. He stared at the piece of wood, hoping for some kind of recognition or idea or anything that would help him to understand. _Why a scrabble piece? _He sat up, rolled the chair forward and relaxed against the desk. What was this guy trying to say? He blew out a breath and closed his eyes again, and searched his mind for an answer. After the fifth girl, the guy had picked up and moved to Montana. He had killed two girls, at least that they knew about, and like in Ohio, they had all differed from each other in every way. Different colors, sizes, and races. Apparently the perp was an equal opportunity killer? One victim had been a retail clerk at The Gap in the local mall, and the other had been a busker. Each were found within five miles of a garage, where he had been toiling away as a mechanic. Then he moved again, just as suddenly. The next state of choice had been Mighty Texas. He set up shop in San Antonio, home of the Alamo, and taught fourth grade to impressionable children. Three girls died, all fitting the pattern and all sexually assaulted. By then he had gotten a taste for it.

John stood, walking around the desk. He began to pace the tiny room, placing a hand over his mouth. Of those ten murders, every single girl had contained a scrabble piece in their mouth or throat, and every single girl had been well, or relatively well conceiled. It wasn't until here, in Llanview, that everything changed. _Why? _What triggered the change? Here, he used a knife on his victims before death. Torturing them and marking them up and leaving them in the open where they were sure to be found. It was as though this guy no longer wanted them all to himself.

"Which comes back to me," he said quietly.

John frowned, confused by this whole line of thinking. He was a part of this now. In a very personal way, the killer has singled him out and made him a part of the equation, but he had been on the case from the start and following the trail of death across the country. Why now, after fourteen deaths?

"Ah-hem."

John turned to find Davis at the door, frowning at him. He knew it was wrong, but kind of liked that the kid was so leary of him. Fear was a useful tool sometimes. "Yeah?" he asked, looking stern.

"Here is the lab report you wanted to see," the kid said, handing it over. "Anything else?" John continued to stare. "Sir?" he quickly added, swallowing.

"No, Davis. Hey, do you know where Detective Buchanan is?" He didn't, and took the opportunity to bolt. John smiled softly, turning his attention to the papers in his hand. The dye was a complete dead end. It could be purchased at almost any drug store across the country. He bit his lip, frustrated, wondering where they were going to catch a break?

* * *

><p>Natalie walked through the front entrance to the park and strolled across the manicured lawn. She stopped a few feet from the tree line, where the third victim had been found a mere five days ago. She shook her head, unable to believe that so little time has passed. It rained this morning, and she knelt on the wet grass feeling the wetness soak into her jeans at the knee. The body had been found right here, and the mental image of the young girl sent a shiver down her spine. She was too young to die in such a horrific way. Scanning the park, Natalie noted several people passing by, even at such a late hour. It was approaching ten in the evening now, and the light had long since vanished. A paved walkway that coiled around the park was lit about every 20 or 30 feet, but the lawns were riddled with shadow.<p>

Natalie stood and continued to survey the area. She should have done a better job the first time she knew, but was distracted by the unwanted arrival of the Federal Bureau of Investigations. They had just pushed their way into her case and now she was stuck with them, and the fact that it was Agent John McBain that she was forced to spend hour upon hour with was both a blessing and a curse. Her eyes scanned the tree line, noticing a small gap amongst the branches, and she went to get a better look. This was likely how the killer got the body here. All other approaches were out in the open, and things were just too busy in this park. He wouldn't have been able to dump a body unnoticed, at any hour. He would have used the trees for cover.

Stepping into the bush, Natalie heard her runners over the fallen leaves and twigs that lay beneath her feet. She moved farther into the darkness, noting that this was almost a trail. It would have given him access to the front lawn fairly easily, even while toting a dead girl. Some of her officers had scoured this area already she knew, but wanted to look herself. This was the beginning, and by retracing this man's murderous steps, maybe they could finally get somewhere with this case?

She walked for sometime, before deciding to check in with the station. She grabbed her phone from her pocket, but her hands were slick from the damp foliage and it fell to the ground. It was then that she saw it. A small drop of blood, and another. She rose and slowly made her way through the brush, following the tiny trail until there was nothing left to follow. No more drops. Obviously the killer had been here with the girl.

"What is that?" she muttered, digging into the muck at her feet. She sucked in a sharp breath. It was a photo of John. Natalie grabbed her gun and took a good look around before analyzing the evidence further. It was a photo of John outside the entrance to this very park, having a heated argument with the three suits. This photo was taken moments before she had first met him, before they had officially joined the case. The killer had been here the whole time watching them. All of them. He had seen everything. She began to move toward the clearing and took out her phone. My god, he had been a few feet away from them as they were investigating the scene, and he was fixating on John even then! She felt sick. The tree line was just a few feet away now, but a loud CRACK resounded throughout the park forcing her into a crouched position.

That was gunfire. Someone was shooting at her.

She heard the sound again and felt wood splinter over her head. Acting purely on instinct, Natalie returned fire, and saw a dark figure bolting through the thick bush. Another shot fired, forcing her to duck. She stood and shot again before running toward the mysterious figure. He was fast, faster than her, and she cried out in anger and frustration. Whoever it had been was long gone. She ran her hands through her damp hair, trying to calm her rapid breathing. Then she reached for her cell and dialed the station.

* * *

><p>John was still milling around the good detective's office, trying to figure out whatever it was that he was supposed to see, to know? He flopped behind the desk, exhausted and spent. He knew he needed to sleep and recharge. He layed back into the chair and spun around, like he and Mikey used to do when they were kids. Somehow it didn't have the same intoxicating effect though.<p>

"You're losing it McBain," he mumbled, sitting up again. This time he took a good hard look around the room. Her office was immacculate, well, for a cop's office anyway. No dust, no random papers out of place, except for the ones that he brought in. No photo on the desk. That was interesting. Why hadn't he noticed that before? Surely there should be Christian Vega beaming up at him from somewhere? He ran a hand over his face and rubbed his tired eyes. If he were 100% honest he would be able to admit that he was still here because she hasn't come back yet. In fact, it's been over four hours since he left her here and ran away. One of them was always running away.

Their attraction had grown exponentially since their first encounter. It was obvious now, to everyone. Chris had known, Bo had known, and even Jerry had known. For a brief moment however, she had been the first one to stop running. She spoke the ugly truth, and admitted out loud that there was something between them. His heart had pumped wildly when she confessed that, but his excitement had been short lived. The truth put an instant damper on his spirits. She said he would leave, and that was the undeniable truth. The one thing that neither of them could run from, and so he would leave her alone he knew. No matter how much it tore him up inside to let her go.

Standing abruptly, John grabbed his coat and left the office. He definitely needed sleep. It would clear his head. He passed through the lobby of the station, glancing at the clock one last time. 10:10pm it read.

"Davis, you still here?" he barked, more to make the kid jump than anything else.

"Yes, sir," he snapped back, jumping, as though on cue.

John surpressed a grin. "Well get some sleep," he ordered, turning to leave. He only got four steps closer to the exit however, because a call stopped him in his tracks. _Officer needs assistance, all units roll to Portlock Park, front entrance..._

Officer Davis opened his mouth to speak, but shut it abruptly. McBain was already gone.


	13. Chapter 13

Kismet pt.13

John's rental car came to a very sudden stop as he slammed on his brakes and hopped from the grey Sedan. The entrance to the park was taped off, and he felt his chest constrict for a moment. He knew without a doubt that she had come back here. He left the driver side door open and stalked toward the gate, needing to see for himself what was going on. There were cops everywhere carrying flashlights and weapons as they searched the grounds. When he reached the entrance, he stopped for a moment, breathing a tremendous sigh of relief. His eyes fell to the damp pavement and he tried to slow his heartbeat before finally walking over to her.

Natalie stood near the tree line, holding a flashlight and ordering her men to different areas of the brush. Her heart was still pumping wildly, and adrenaline coursed through her body putting her on edge. Being shot at had an unnerving effect. "Jarod? Make sure you get thorough shots of section four," she ordered, running a shaky hand through her hair.

"I'm on it," he shouted back from the trees.

John stopped right behind her. She was so focussed on everything that she didn't even notice him until his voice made her jump. "Care to explain why you were here by yourself?" he asked, watching her turn and match his stare with a determined one of her own.

"Damn it, John! Don't sneak up on me like that!" Her heart was pumping uncontrollably again.

His hands were on his hips. "I'm sorry, did I scare you?" He was pissed. She had scared him.

She frowned and moved away, indicating that he should follow. He did. "I was shot at," she blurted, keeping her eyes trained on his. He bit his lip like he always did when he was holding something back, and she could imagine what that something was going to be. "Look, I came back here to check things out and the bastard took a couple shots at me. I'm fine."

"You're fine," he repeated, evenly. He didn't know whether to strangle her or hug her, so he opted for a safe alternative. Answers. "Tell me what happened?"

Natalie took a breath and recounted the details of what happened, watching him watch her. The tension rolled off of him in waves, but he kept himself in check. "So? Aren't you going to say something?" she asked.

"Well, I could start by telling you that you're extremely lucky to be standing here right now instead of being victim number fifteen. Or, I could point out how infuriating it is that you would go trolling through the woods by yourself at night." He watched her eyes narrow. "Or how about I mention how stupid it was to ignore a flat out warning of danger. Remember that conversation Natalie, the one we had yesterday?"

"Detective Buchanan?" an officer interrupted.

John held up his hand and shook his head at the young man. "Go away," he said sternly, watching the uniform back up and turn around.

"What the hell was that?" Natalie asked, furiously. "I'm working here!" She spun toward the trees, intending to leave McBain behind, but was stopped by his firm grip on her arm. "Ow!" she yelled, feeling a jolt of pain shoot into her shoulder.

"What's this?" John asked, pulling her closer. There was blood on her jacket. "Take it off," he ordered, and she did. Her right bicep was covered in blood. John leaned in, taking a good look at the wound. "It's a graze," he said, exasperated. "You've been shot! Damn it, Natalie!"

She jerked free of his grasp. "You said it yourself, it's nothing." It hurt more than she cared to admit, and was getting worse, but there was no way John McBain would ever know that. "I have work to do."

He stepped in front of her, blocking her path. "No you don't. Let someone else do it."

"What? Who?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing?

"You," he said confidently, "you'll be at the hospital getting that arm checked out."

Natalie laughed. "Is that an order Agent, because I don't work for you."

John crossed his arms over his chest. "Let me make this easy for you, Detective. You can go and get yourself checked out by a doctor, of your own free will? Or I can help you. Either way, you're going."

He was serious. She knew he was serious and wanted nothing more than to refuse and challenge him at every turn. She sighed, and glanced around. This was not the time or place. It wouldn't look good to have a hissy fit in front of her officers, or have McBain carry her off like the caveman he could be. "Fine," she answered sharply.

"You don't mind if I tag along do you?" John asked stubbornly. He was going to make sure she was okay, whether she liked it or not, and judging by the look she was giving him she definitely didn't like it. He watched her walk toward the parking lot, and he took a breath and slowly followed. He grabbed his phone and made a quick call.

* * *

><p>"I don't need a babysitter," Natalie said, annoyed that she had somehow been manipulated into leaving her own crime scene. This was ridiculous! She was fine.<p>

John didn't say anything. He just stayed put, holding the door of the elevator open until she finally stepped inside. He joined her, staring coldly at the medal doors. She ranted the entire way over here and he has had enough. The damn fool woman didn't even know what was good for her! He frowned, running a hand over his face.

When the doors opened they both stepped out, eager to get this over with. Natalie didn't consider herself claustrophobic, but another minute in that elevator with McBain and she would have lost it. She walked over to the registration desk.

"Hey, Nat," a friendly voice said from behind.

"Hey Mike."

"Johnny?" her friend said, looking directly at McBain.

She brought a hand up to her mouth. "McBain," she said softly, as the truth finally dawned on her. _And you call yourself a detective? _she scolded, inwardly flinching.

John was shocked. "Michael? What the hell are you doing here?"

"It's good to see you too brother." The disdain in Michael McBain's voice was not lost on anyone.

Natalie watched as both brothers stared, neither speaking, but both telling volumes about their relationship with body language. They were definitely not close. She turned to John. "Brothers?" she asked, still in denial.

"What, the name wasn't a clue for you?"

She wanted to slap him. "Forgive me, but you two are nothing alike."

"We know," they both said at the same time.

Michael sighed, and then focussed his attention on his friend. "So, what brings you here?"

She opened her mouth, but John spoke first. "She was shot."

"What? Where?"

"I'm fine, Mike. It was just a graze." His eyes relaxed, and she turned her anger on John. "Would you please stop telling people I've been shot? Are you trying to give everyone a heart attack?"

"Alright," the doc interrupted, "wait for me in there and I'll be right in to take a look at you." She didn't move. "Just do it Nat," he ordered, pointing to an empty exam room. She finally did as she was told.

John hung back a moment and took a look at his baby brother. He looked good. "So, what are you doing in Llanview?" he asked, trying to sound casual. "I thought you were living in Chicago?"

"That was two years ago, John," he answered, solumnly. "Maybe if you didn't disappear off the map for years at a time you'd know where your family was?" Then he walked away.

John grimaced. _Well that was fun! _he thought sarcastically. Michael McBain, here. That was something he didn't expect. He would have to remember to ask about mom? Then he walked into the exam room, and was greeted with about the same level of warmth.


	14. Chapter 14

Kismet pt.14

Natalie sat on the edge of the bed with her legs crossed, and her palms flat on the mattress for support. She was staring at John, who was leaning against the far wall, and glancing everywhere in the tiny room except at her. Twenty-five excruciating minutes have passed since Mike disappeared, and neither one of them have attempted conversation. She was still angry at being babied like a child, but right now was more curious than anything else, and she was ready to scream. She decided to try a different approach with him. "So," she began in a casual tone, "it must be nice to see your brother again?"

John shook his head slightly and looked at her. She wasn't fooling anyone. "It's swell."

Okay, clearly the sweet and concerned tactic wasn't going to work. "Oh, come on John? You can't honestly tell me that little reunion didn't throw you for a loop?" He just stared with those blank eyes. His defenses were back up and she sighed. "When was the last time you saw him?"

"I don't know?" He watched her eyes widen slightly and knew that he had surprised her. He licked his lips. "Maybe three years, or four?"

"Four years?" Natalie felt sad. "I can't imagine being away from my family for that long?" She blurted the words out before she thought about them, and was terrified that he would clam up again. She wanted to know him.

"Yeah, well you'd be surprised how easy it is to do?" She continued to stare in silence, content in letting him say what he wanted or needed. John grabbed a chair and turned it in front of her, straddling it. He leaned against the metal back and met her gaze. "What?" he asked softly.

She shrugged slightly. "So you're not close?" She was pushing she knew, but he wasn't exactly an open book.

"Not since we were kids."

"What happened?"

John smiled, he couldn't help it. Everything between them was like a game, he would move and then she would counter, and so on... She was being so careful right now and for some reason that thought made him want to smile. "Life I guess?" His voice sounded deep, even to his ears. He could feel his heart pump just a little bit faster. How did she do that? "When he got older, Mikey was sort of an ass," John offered. Natalie laughed. "Then he went to medical school and I went into the FBI and our paths went in different directions."

Natalie looked at the ground. "And then Caitlyn died."

He swallowed, keeping his eyes trained on her. "Yeah." She looked back up, searching him out. "I guess I let my job take over?"

"And it had nothing to do with your obsessive, controlling, single-minded tendancies?" she teased, smiling now too.

"Nope."

Feeling a little warm, Natalie tried to remove the tan blazer she had worn over her red blouse. She hissed, suddenly very aware of the wound on her arm and why they were here.

John got up. "Here?" he said, helping her ease the cloth down her arm. He frowned. It looked sore and he felt the anger begin to coil in his belly. He wanted to kill the bastard!

Natalie stared up at him, helpless to do anything else when he was standing so near. "Thank you," she croaked, watching him meet her eyes. Her breath caught in her throat.

"Sorry I took so long?" Michael said, strolling into the room. He saw what he had walked in on, and paused. "Sorry," he said again.

John pulled the chair off to the side and took his seat once again. "It's about time," he said, sarcastically. "I was beginning to think this was an HMO."

Mike smiled, despite himself. He focussed on his patient. "Let me take a look, Nat." He gently washed the wound so he could inspect it carefully. "So how exactly did this happen?"

"A nutcase shot at me," she said simply, refusing to look at John.

Michael studied her and knew she wasn't being forthright with him. He turned. "Brother?" he asked.

John felt her irritated stare. "A nutcase shot at her because she went trolling around in the bushes by herself at night without telling anyone what she was up to."

Mike turned back to his friend. "Of all the idiotic..."

"Alright," Natalie interrupted, "I'm not going to sit here and be ganged up on by the Brothers McBain, so both of you can just knock it off right now!"

"It was a dumb thing to do, Nat." Michael softly rubbed some antibiotic cream over the deep scratch.

A nurse poked her head in the door. "Doctor, we need you out here. There's a little boy with a broken arm."

He nodded. "I'll be back. Sorry, I'm the only one on duty tonight. Stay put," he suggested firmly, before leaving.

* * *

><p>Now Natalie was the one looking everywhere around the room, except at the person sitting a few feet away. <em>Damn that kid and his broken arm! <em>She was suddenly very aware of how alone she was with John. The tension was building, growing thicker, and she just wanted out. Apparently, he felt the same way because he rose from his seat and stalked toward her. "What are you doing?" she asked nervously.

"I'm bandaging your arm."

"What? You're not a doctor? Besides, he said to wait for him."

John picked up the bandage and guaze, ignoring her. "Look," he said, unrolling the tube, "we can't wait here all night and Mike's obviously got his hands full. I know how to wrap a bandage." She looked at him skeptically. "Trust me," he said, feeling as though his throat was closing in on him. She was so beautiful. He focussed on his hands.

Natalie stared, feeling her chest and breath get heavy. _Did he have to be so damn sexy all the time? _She closed her eyes for a moment, but they snapped open when he touched her. Fire coursed through her veins. She looked past his right arm, trying really hard not to fixate on the tatoo that decorated his muscle. She licked her lips. "Michael's going to be mad," she said weakly, desperate for any kind of distraction.

"Michael will get over it," John replied, gently holding out her arm while he wrapped the cloth over the gunshot wound.

"He wanted us to wait," she pushed.

John finally looked at her. "Since when do you do what you're told?" he asked, feeling an overwhelming desire to lock the door. Their eyes were fused, and he slowly ran a knuckle down her soft cheek. He stepped between her legs and stared at her lips. He was so close to doing what he wanted to do.

"Do you want to tell me what in the hell you were doing?" a voice boomed from the doorway. Bo Buchanan stepped inside, directing all his anger at his niece.

John stepped away, clearing his throat. Natalie looked at him. "You called him? When?" she shouted, furiously.

Bo answered for him. "He called me from the crime scene, which is by the way, what you should have done." His eyes softened slightly as he moved toward her. He took a look at her arm. "Are you okay?"

She swallowed. "I'm fine." He stared at her. "Really. I'm fine, Uncle Bo. It's just a graze."

"You're lucky he didn't take your head off!" John said stubbornly.

Natalie sighed, frustrated with having to constantly defend her actions. She was doing her job. "He didn't want me dead," she said confidently.

"What makes you say that?" John asked.

"Look, you weren't there! Whoever was shooting at me knew how to handle a firearm, and had plenty of opportunity to kill me." She saw both men frown and tense up. "He didn't," she pressed, determined to get her point across.

* * *

><p>Christian Vega stood outside the hospital room, peering into the thin window that was on the heavy door. He had bought a police scanner shortly after starting to date Natalie, and kept it in the kitchen at the diner. He was helping his mom when the call came in over the tiny radio. An officer needed assistance, and that was all he needed to know. He called the station and spoke with Davis, who filled him in on her status. She was okay. Without even thinking about it, Chris grabbed his coat and rushed to Llanview hospital, anxious to see that for himself. When he talked to the nurse at registration and found out where she was, he practically ran to the room.<p>

_Natalie had been the officer in trouble. Natalie was in a hospital. _

But Natalie wasn't alone. He watched as McBain stood inches from her, bandaging her arm. He saw him caress her face and move closer still, and Christian felt sick. That bastard was going to kiss her. He wanted to walk in and beat the crap out of him, but his feet were planted firmly in place. McBain wanted Natalie, that was no secret. He had picked up on it back at the diner. What he wasn't prepared for was Natalie wanting him back, and she did, he could see it as clearly as he saw the two of them staring at one another a few feet from him.

Then a familiar sound reached his ears from the elevator. Bo was coming. Chris wasn't ready yet, he didn't know what he wanted to do, so he stepped around the corner while the Commissioner charged into the room.

_What are you doing? _he wondered, leaning against the cold wall. He walked back to the door and heard them discussing the night's events. He shouldn't be here, but he was, and he still wanted to see her. He loved her, and wasn't sure he could just walk away. Maybe that's not what she wanted? She cared about him, he knew, maybe even loved him? Chris sighed. McBain wasn't going to stay. Then Chris opened the door and walked inside.

* * *

><p>"Christian?" Natalie actually felt her mouth drop, but she was shocked. She turned to John, who was shaking his head. No, he didn't call him. "What are you doing here?" she asked, confused.<p>

"Are you alright?" he asked, walking up and hugging her.

"I'm fine," she breathed against his shoulder. "Chris, I'm okay. What are you doing here?" He released her, but didn't move away. "How did you know I was here?"

He grimaced, looking at the bandage on her arm. "I heard it on the scanner," he said simply, hugging her again.

She put a hand on his head, holding him back. "I'm alright, Chris," she repeated. She didn't dare look at John.

"Okay," Michael said, entering the crowded exam room. "Are you having a party, cause I wasn't invited?" He saw Christian step back from Natalie, but he held tightly to her hand. He looked to his brother who was playing it cool, but Michael knew better. "Commissioner," he greeted, shaking Bo's hand. Then he spotted the bandage, and stepped closer, taking a look. "Nice. So who's the one playing doctor?"

Natalie cleared her throat. "I guess it runs in the family?" They all looked at John.

His eyes widened under their scrutiny. "I've had lots of practice," he offered, feeling very uncomfortable.

"Yeah?" Natalie asked, finally looking at him. He looked back.

"I've got a few scars."

She swallowed before wincing at the ache in her arm. Chris tightened his grip on her hand and she squeezed his back. She had forgotten that he was holding it for a moment there. Then she yawned.

"Can she go home?" Christian asked, wanting to get her alone, and far, far away from Agent McBain.

"I think we're done here," Mike answered, jotting some notes down in her chart.

"Go get some sleep sweetheart," Bo ordered, giving her a gentle hug.

"No. I have work to do." Natalie tried to protest.

"Wrong," he said sternly. "You get the night off. You better not show your face at the station before noon tomorrow or you're fired."

"Noon? Uncle Bo..."

"Go home, Natalie," he barked. She saw the look in his eye and caved. "Oh, and don't think of going anywhere without your police escort."

She spun around. "What?" Officer Romero stepped into the doorframe. "Are you kidding me?"

John lowered his head and stiffled the grin that was threatening to flash from ear to ear. _That poor kid! _he thought, amused. His brother moved beside him, also trying to keep from laughing. They were both staring at their feet.

"Get used to it, Natalie," Bo said. He wasn't giving an inch on this one.

Christian stepped in front of her. "Let's just get out of here Natalie," he pleaded, "you should rest."

She sighed, seeing the desperation in his eyes and knew she was stuck. "Okay," she said, picking up her blazer. It had blood all over the arm, as well as a tear from the bullet. She tossed it into the trash. "Goodnight," she blurted, before walking from the room. She didn't look back.

* * *

><p>Bo listened as John brought him up to speed on everything he knew about tonight's events. "So are you going to call Jerry?"<p>

John chuckled. "Nah, I'll call in the morning. I'm not really in the mood for him right now." Bo smiled and then shook his new friend's hand before leaving. McBain stood there for a moment, staring at the empty bed, and then he let the exhaustion take over. He needed to catch this guy, but he needed a break. If he didn't step back he would fry, and that wasn't an option. That would leave Natalie fending for herself against this lunatic. He left the room and walked toward the elevator.

"Leaving?"

John turned and nodded. He hasn't seen Mikey in close to four years, and now, in one night, he's seeing him everywhere.

"The hospital or the town?"

John was tired. "I'll be here for awhile yet, Mike."

The younger McBain stared for a moment. "Well, then call me when you get some down time. We'll eat, or play pool or something?"

The elevator doors opened and John held them. "Yeah?"

Mike smiled slightly. "Yeah." He gave his brother his card, and watched as he stepped into the elevator and the doors closed. He felt a small pang of fear. Fear that his brother would disappear again. He leaned against the wall and lightly tapped his head against it, before smiling wider. He went back to work.

* * *

><p>Natalie stood outside at the front entrance of the diner and closed her eyes. She was enjoying the feel of the cool wind blowing on her face. Somehow she had talked Christian into taking her here instead of home? She wasn't ready to be there yet. They had eaten, and she reassured him that she was fine and he could relax, because she wasn't going to take anymore chances. They talked for awhile before she started yawning again. He offered to take her home, and even to stay with her, but she didn't want that. She needed to think and clear her head. She needed space. After several minutes of arguing, she convinced him she was fine. Besides, she wasn't alone, she had Romero with her.<p>

"Are you ready to go home, Detective Buchanan?" he asked, looking slightly bored.

She continued to look straight ahead, admiring the statue in Angel Square. Christian really was talented. "No," she said at last. "I think I'm going to go for a walk." He started to follow her. "What are you doing?" she asked, turning her attention onto him.

He looked confused. "Going for a walk?"

Natalie's eyes narrowed. "You don't understand, Romero. I'm going for a walk. You, you're dismissed."

His eyes grew wide, alarmed. He shook his head. "No, ma'am. I'm supposed to stay with you tonight."

"You've done that, but now I'm going to go clear my head a bit and I'm going to do that without you."

"But, the Commissioner..."

She held up her hand. "I know. He ordered you to watch me, but I'm telling you that we're done now." She watched the kid standing there, staring. He didn't know what to do? She wasn't being fair, she knew. He was given an order, but she just didn't care. "Go home, Romero," she instructed. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He sighed, and then began to slowly back away. She waved. Then he disappeared into the shadows and she took a deep breath. _Finally! _she thought, feeling herself relax for the first time since the shooting. She walked away from the diner and into the night.


	15. Chapter 15

Okay, so here it is...SERIOUS M RATING GOING ON HERE (or R, or whatever the highest adult rating is?)... I want to be clear, there is explicit sex in this chapter, so if you don't like that then skip over it. :)

* * *

><p>Kismet pt.15<p>

John walked the tiny space of his hotel room, reading file after file on the case. He had come here rather than the station to take a break, but couldn't let it go. He needed to work. He needed to do his job and then get the hell out of Llanview. Sighing, he tossed the report onto the mini-folding table that was doubling as a nightstand by the bed. The pages slid across the smooth surface and fell to the floor making a huge mess. He blew out a breath, running his hands roughly through his hair before flopping on the bed and leaning against the solid wood headboard. _Damn it! _he cursed inwardly, aggitated. It wasn't the case that was making him jumpy.

She left with Chris and didn't look back.

A soft knock on the door snapped him out of his morose thoughts. He grabbed his gun from the table and pointed it down and away, ready to greet whoever was visiting him at nearly one in the morning. Peering out the edge of the hideous checkered curtains covering his dirty window, he relaxed his hold on his weapon and turned the knob. He stood face to face with a pair of wide green eyes and flowing red hair. She looked uncomfortable, unsure. He watched her mouth open as though to speak, but then close again. He opened the door and walked back across the room. She came in, but still neither spoke, they just stared. The door clicked shut at the push of her slender hand.

The air in the room felt thick.

"I needed to clear my head," Natalie said at last, sweeping her eyes over the room. It was not great. A folding table, a lamp, a bathroom with only a stand-up shower. She chose to ignore the queen size bed that seemed to be the centerpiece to the entire space. He was in his jeans and a black tank top, and her stomach tightened at the sight of his tatoos. She licked her lips as she met his gaze again. He stood there, intense in his scrutiny, content to let her do the talking. She felt it necessary to explain her presence. "I went for a walk and found myself here." He nodded slightly, acknowledging that he had at least heard her, but said nothing. She squeezed the seam of her pant leg slightly, absently playing with the jean material. "It's late," she stated, feeling slightly helpless and exposed and very, very raw. "I should probably go?" His blue eyes pierced hers like an arrow. "I'm gonna go," but she didn't move.

John carefully placed his gun on the table. "So go."

Natalie felt her heart slam against her chest. She was trapped by his stare and it was exhilerating. She knew now, that she wasn't going anywhere. She turned and locked the deadbolt, and then waited. The seconds it took him to finally move felt like an eternity, and she found herself holding her breath. _Remember to breathe! _she thought, staring.

John felt liquid fire pump through his body as he watched her stand across from him full of nervous energy. She had no idea how beautiful she was and he ached to put his hands on her, but he needed to be careful and let her come to him, choose to be with him. He needed to be sure for both their sakes. So, he watched her stammer and fidget and then turn for the door. His heart stopped beating. _Was she going to leave? _Then, just as suddenly, he felt air in his lungs again as she locked them inside. She was staying and he needed to be closer.

He stood overhead, careful not to touch her. Instead he found himself lost in her wide gaze, swimming in pools of green. He felt his body tighten from head to toe. She looked back, and her warm breath grew unsteady, touching the skin of his neck.

Natalie dropped her purse and it sank to the cheap linoleum floor. He wasn't touching her and she wanted to scream. She wanted his hands on her more than her next breath. She needed him to know that this was supposed to happen, she was supposed to be here, and there were no longer any doubts plaguing her. Keeping her eyes pinned to his, she kicked off her runners and felt the cold from the floor move through her nylons and into her feet. His breathing was ragged now, and she felt a small shiver travel the length of her at the sound. Slowly, Natalie unfastened the top button to her blouse. He kept his eyes trained on hers, while she continued to open the short-sleeved satin top, revealing a thin sliver of skin and bra.

John swallowed, barely able to contain his lust. _The things she did to him! _He blinked, breaking the spell, and then carefully swept his gaze down the length of her voluptuous body. Creamy skin taunted from beneath the red material, and he slid his hands between the curtains of cloth. She burned his flesh as he rested them over her ribs.

Natalie felt a bolt of awareness shoot through her as his hands finally came to rest on her torso. Her eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment, while she absorbed the sensations that were travelling every inch of her sensitive skin. She gently shrugged the material from her shoulders, and felt it slide down her arms and then float to the ground at her feet. The searing look John gave her as he focussed on her chest made her soul melt. She felt the flames, and then she was consumed by them as he captured her lips with his own.

John had lost his patience. He took in the glorious sight of her beautiful breasts, encased in forest green lace that stopped just above her nipples, and felt something in him break. He seized her mouth roughly, desperate to taste her and feel her and have her. Desperate for all of her. His tongue pushed its way into her mouth demanding access, and she moaned, gripping his head firmly. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, not wanting any space between them, and hissed at the feel of her teeth nipping his lower lip. He grabbed her head and held her to him, as he deepened an already deep kiss.

Feeling the kiss all the way to her toes, Natalie finally broke from him, gasping for much needed air. Her chest heaved against his, and their ragged breath mixed together as his mouth hovered just centimeters above her own. She cursed herself for needing oxygen. His hand slid over her hair, brushing it from her eyes, and he touched his forehead to hers, still fighting for breath. She sighed softly, relishing the feel of him pressed against her. He was trying to slow himself, she knew, and waited for him to do just that. When he lifted himself and met her eyes again, she marvelled at the beauty of this man. His eyes shone the colour of glacier water, and the rampant desire that reflected from them stole all the air from the room. Unable to help herself, she touched his face. He inched closer until his lips touched hers so very lightly. Their mouths opened, yet still he held himself from her, teasing her with the promise of a kiss. Natalie didn't think she could take much more. She breathed his name against his lips, and then they glided over hers, taking her again.

This kiss was different. It was hungry, but also sensual and provocative. It was a promise, and it was all John could give her at this moment. He rubbed his tongue along hers and felt himself harden from the contact. She felt so good, like the best part of heaven and the worst part of hell. His hands rested briefly on her shoulders, before hooking the straps of her bra with his thumbs and lowering them down her arms. He slid one hand into her silky hair and the other down her bare back, pressing her closer. He bent slightly and lifted her with a strong arm. Her legs wound around his as he walked to the bed without breaking the kiss. Then they were on the bed and taking what they could from one another.

Natalie felt the length of his body against hers as he was pressing her into the mattress. She sought his tongue out, never wanting to ever stop kissing him. Her legs rose higher, pulling him in, loving the sweet pressure of his weight on top of her.

"God," he breathed, sliding his mouth along her neck. He untangled his hands from her hair and ran them over her arms. She yelped and he lifted his head, barely registering the fresh wound still wrapped on her bicep. His eyes widened. "I'm sorry," he blurted, concerned now that his brain was clearing.

She touched his face again. "Please John," she begged, not caring, "don't stop?" She could see the battle he was having with himself. "Touch me John," she said, feeling breathless under his gaze. He did. His mouth was back in place and the fire was instantly lit. His lips travelled her face, touching her everywhere, and she bit her lip as he found her breasts and squeezed. "mmmm..." she groaned, pulsing from the inside out.

There was an urgency now that wasn't there before. John felt his body coiling tighter with every blissful touch, and began to grow impatient with the pace. He rose above her, holding himself on a strong arm and slipping the other beneath her ripe body. Her bra was unfastened and thrown. He stared at her a moment, and then touched her almost reverently. She closed her eyes, and he bent, taking a hardened nipple into the warmth of his mouth.

Natalie cried out, gripping his hair as he tasted her. Ripples of pleasure shook her to her very core, and she felt the slickness from between her powerful legs. "Please?" she begged again, as he slid lower still, kissing his way down her body. "Joh..John..." Her voice was barely there.

John undid the button of her jeans and lowered the zipper, before meeting her eyes. He slowly pulled the fabric from her hips and down her nylon encased legs, removing them. He wasn't sure his chest could hold his heart in place for much longer? Licking his dry lips, he tugged at the stockings and smiled as she kicked her legs while he pulled them from her body. They too, found a home on his floor. He looked at her, and made a mental note to burn this into his memory for all time. She was flushed and on his bed, panting for breath. Her fiery hair was draped over the ugly floral quilt that lay beneath her, and she was naked except for her tiny underwear. His body temperature shot through the roof, and he winced at the strain his erection was experiencing at the sight of her. He knelt on the edge of the bed, caressing her legs slightly, before crawling up her lush curves. He kissed her, breathing into her at the feel of her tongue in his mouth.

Natalie wrapped herself around him, afraid he would leave her again, even for a moment. "Aaggh!" she cried in frustration as he did just that, and loomed over her on his knees. He pulled his tank top over his head, and she rose, running her hands frantically over his muscled chest and kissing his body with fervor. She felt him grip her hair and tug lightly, forcing her to look up. Then his mouth was on hers and they were sinking back into the mattress.

John melted against her, pinning her to the bed with his hard length. He felt her urgency and it threatened to overtake his control. Her hands were everywhere, touching him, exploring. He moaned against her lips as she squeezed his ass, arching her body like a bow. He felt her struggle with the button of his jeans before releasing it and lowering his pants zipper. She reached lower still, slipping into his underwear and taking a firm hold on his penis. "Aaaaah!" he groaned loudly, the sound resonating in the room as he kissed her wildly. Without warning, he pulled from her and removed his last vestiges of clothing. Their eyes were fused, and he rolled her onto her stomach as he pulled her panties down over her ankles. Taking a moment to marvel at her beauty, John slowly ran his hands up the back of her legs, and then began to kiss his way up her spine. She stretched beneath him and placed her hands flat against the headboard. When he got to her neck, he lifted her hair and placed a light kiss there, slipping a hand beneath her and cupping a breast.

She rolled again, feeling desperate now. She wanted him, but more than that, she needed him. Meeting his mouth, she pulled him forward and he followed her, needing her too. Her legs opened, and in one fluid motion, John entered her body.

Their sounds spilled out, but he couldn't concentrate on them. He was completely focussed on the feel of her tight body gripping him intimately. He wasn't sure if he was breathing, but closed his eyes in an attempt for control. This wasn't going to end now. When he reopened them, she was staring with a passion that made him pulse, centering upon their union. She smiled up and shifted her hips ever-so-slightly. His hands captured them, holding them steady and he lowered his lips to hers in a soft touch but it wasn't enough. He sank into her, enjoying the feel of her nipples, enjoying her hot tongue in his mouth. He deepened the kiss and shifted, sinking further into her body. "God, Natalie..." He was torturing them both now by staying still, ignoring a need that was as natural as existing.

Natalie wimpered in frustration. She could feel her lip pout like a child, and then molded herself to his length. Her hands slid along his ribs and over his smooth, wide back. They came to rest on his shoulders for a moment before sliding to his biceps. The tension in his entire body vibrated through her. Her legs rose higher around him, trapping him against her, and the burn that made her ache flared up with her movement. She arched herself again, and grabbed his head roughly meeting his hypnotizing eyes. Then he was kissing her and she felt him finally move inside. She smiled against his lips.

John couldn't take it anymore. He began a slow pace, desperate for the sensations that only she could envoke. She smiled on his mouth and he slid a hand under her ass, lifting her, angling her. She yelped again, but this time it had nothing to do with her wound, and he increased his pressure. Her hands left his hair and gripped his shoulders almost painfully. Their breathing was rough, and the fire in his loins was raging out of control. His eyes sought her out, and he was vaguely aware of how swollen her lips were from his kisses, right before she grabbed his hips and shouted his name.

Her hands stopped all movement, freezing, and her brain soon followed as the familiar stirrings began to take hold of her body. Natalie felt her inner muscles seize, convulsing around John tightly, and she found the voice that had disappeared earlier. Her orgasm was sharp and intense, and every inch of her felt a pleasure beyond reason. When she was able to focus, she realized that he was still deep inside her, making her quiver, making her crazy.

John felt her pleasure as intensely as she did when she gripped him to her, drawing him further inside. He finally had all of her and he wanted her to have all of him too. The heat of their bodies was unbearable, and he slid an arm beneath her back, cradling her head. He lifted her from the bed and cried out as she came down on him hard, sitting in his lap. Their mouths clumsily found one another, swallowing each other as his grip on her scalp tightened. He was never letting her go. The friction that had been growing was a pressure that he could no longer withstand. He felt Natalie wrap her tiny arms around him, gliding her hands along the skin that was slick with sweat. He felt her breath on his ear as she whispered his name...and then he felt himself explode. His body was so tight it should have snapped, but instead it seared with a heat that threatened to burn them both alive. He continued to pump desperately, striving for more, always more. He saw white light behind his eyes as they glazed over from the intensity of the moment. He spilled into her, filling her, and heard more sounds against his ear. She was convulsing again, threatening to destroy him with sensory overload. She moved against him as roughly as he did her, and he registered a brief moment of pain as her teeth clamped down on his shoulder. If this was death, he welcomed it.

Natalie tasted the sweat from his skin and an unusual coppery flavour, before falling backwards. He was pressing her into the bed again, and she continued to cling to him wherever it was possible. His tongue swept her mouth and his palm flattened against her breast. She closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the shudders that racked her body. When they came up for air, she finally got to see his eyes, his soul. Her lip curled as a smile stretched across his face and he placed a warm hand behind her neck.

John rolled to the side, bringing her with him, keeping her flush against his tingly flesh. Their breathing was still heavy, and after a moment he reluctantly withdrew from the safe haven of her body. She groaned quietly against his lips, as sorry for the loss of contact as he, and he smiled again. Reaching downward, he slid a hand along the back of her thigh and brought her leg up, curling it over his hip. He kissed her. He slid his mouth smoothly over hers, prompting her to open, and didn't waste the invitation. His tongue caressed hers slowly, so slowly, dancing in her hot mouth.

She moaned and tangled herself in his dark hair, turning him onto his back. She climbed over his body, sighing as he groped her heavy breasts, and glided along his length, skin against skin. He grabbed handfuls of her hair and pulled her mouth from his, staring with a heat that by all rights should not be there this soon after their lovemaking. She grinned an evil grin. Then her tongue was laving his nipple and she was watching it harden.

Her breath was driving him crazy.

She crawled back up, holding herself overhead and smiling a delicious smile. "Wow," she said at last, chuckling.

He matched her grin. "Yeah, wow!" He ran his hands along her body while they continued to stare playfully at each other, needing to touch her. No, needing her. "So is your head clear?" he teased.

She nodded, dipping low and placing soft, tiny kisses along his neck and shoulder. "Oh my god, John!" she said, rising above him wide-eyed. "I bit you," she exclaimed, unable to keep the amusement off her face.

He felt sore the moment she said it, and glanced over at the tiny set of teeth marks imprinting his skin. "You bit me," he repeated, meeting her eyes, "and you drew blood, you little vampire!" He laughed and lifted his head to her, tasting her sweet lips.

"I am a vampire," she said heatedly, looking mischievous as she pulled away. Her hair tickled his skin as she made her way to the juncture of his legs and tugged him gently with her hot hand. She saw his eyes spark and then he was staring at the ceiling with wonder. She stroked him evenly, applying more pressure as he hardened under her administrations. His breath was stunted, and still he focussed on the stucko over their heads. Natalie smiled. She ran a nail along the underside of his erection, enjoying the sight of him spasming and bent lower, blowing against his heated flesh.

"Natalie..."

She looked up and met his piercing eyes. "Do you want me to stop?" she asked softly, knowing full well he didn't. She was right, he shook his head. Then she grinned wider. "I didn't think so," she confessed, kissing the tip and then sucking it gently.

_Dear god! _ John closed his eyes and pressed his head into the mattress, unable to believe how good it felt to have her mouth on his penis. She continued to stroke him with her hands, cupping his balls and squeezing, and he felt all the air leave his lungs. This was too much. His brain told him to stop now, but his hand slipped into her hair as she took his entire length into her wet mouth. "Mmmm..." John held her to him, feeling that familiar desperation again. She was swallowing him whole, and he blew out, feeling his stomach clench and his body pull tighter from head to toe. Her lips sucked, tugging on one ball and then the other before licking their way up his cock. John was going to blow.

"Stop," he stammered, pulling on her hair more forcefully. "Natalie stop..." But she didn't. She rode him with her mouth and his grunts grew louder with every stroke. Blood pounded in his ears and his penis, and then he lost all ability to function because he was cumming. John orgasmed and it was long and it was sweet. He felt every nerve in his body, and the pleasure consumed him, clouding his brain. After an eternity, he was finally able to notice that she was still on him, swallowing and sucking and licking. She was devouring him and he never wanted her to stop. When his hips lowered back against the bed, and he felt the first breath of air fill his lungs, he opened his mouth to speak. He couldn't, it was too soon.

Finally releasing him, Natalie smiled softly and climbed back up to meet his drugged gaze. She was panting and her heart was pounding, and then he was forcing her mouth to his possessively.

Several moments passed before John let her pull away from him. "I'll have to pay you back for that," he said deeply, his voice husky.

She grinned playfully again. "Yes, you will."

* * *

><p>Natalie was helpless to prevent the smile that stretched across her face. A small sigh slipped between her lips as she slowly opened her eyes to the ceiling. She could feel John's caress and her heartbeat doubled in her chest. "Now that's a wake-up call," she teased, placing a hand in his dark tresses. His mouth was doing marvelous things to her midriff.<p>

John chuckled against her soft stomach, dipping his tongue into her belly button. She had been asleep, and he knew that he should have left her alone. He tried, but in her slumber, she absently started caressing his thigh and that had been that. He slowly licked his way to her hip, playfully nipping the mole that he loved so much. Her skin was getting hot and he could feel the pulse of her body with every breath. He smiled briefly, making his way back to her belly, and then lower still. He slipped the sheet over his head, concealing himself from her hungry gaze.

"You're trying to kill me." Her voice was weak, and she swallowed, excited by the fact that she couldn't see him and know what he would do. The anticipation sent fire shooting straight through her.

His voice was muffled against her knee. "You can take it," he answered, still travelling her body. _How could every inch of her taste good? Feel good? _His desire for her was insatiable, and that was dangerous for him. Then he stopped thinking all together and slid his way higher.

Natalie sucked in a sharp breath, surprised by the sudden maneuvering of her body. He pulled her legs wide in one swift move, and inserted himself between her quivering thighs. _I won't survive him! _she thought, arching her lower back slightly. She tingled from head to toe, and thought she heard a buzzing, but promptly dismissed it. His mouth was marking her skin like a branding iron, and she focussed on that as he inched ever-closer to where she really wanted him. His breath seared her. "John..." Her head pushed against the pillow below.

"Say it again," he breathed, so close to her soft core.

Natalie grabbed the sheet with one hand and gripped it with all her strength. She blinked trying to focus on his words.

"Say my name." He slid his hands under her ass and lifted her, making her legs widen further.

She didn't think she had a voice at the moment. "No," she refused, wrapping her arms under the pillow. She couldn't see him, but she knew he was grinning that arrogant grin.

"No?" he repeated, touching her briefly with his rough fingers.

Natalie squirmed under his strong hold, and flattened her palms against the cool headboard. A thin sheen of sweat blanketed her as her temperature soared. Her chest heaved. This time she couldn't speak, so she shook her head. He touched her again with purpose. She felt his fingers on the most intimate part of herself and sighed, gasping for the air that wasn't reaching her lungs fast enough. "Aaaah..." Sounds bubbled out of her, but not the one he wanted. She felt him grab her legs under the knee and raise them forward until they were pressed against her stomach. "Jo...!" she started to shout before stopping herself. He was relentless, and then his mouth was on her and she forgot everything she was supposed to be remembering.

John felt an incredible discomfort between his legs, but he ignored it for now. She was driving him crazy! Her smooth skin was the only aphrodesiac he needed. She was playing with him by being stubborn in her refusal to say his name, but she was going to lose this battle because he needed her to say it. He placed his mouth on her center, relishing the cries that filled the room. She was not a quiet lover, and he loved that about her. Her unique flavour sent violent shudders of need straight to his groin, and he moaned into her soft folds. Her hands found his head and held him in place, desperate for what he was giving her.

Natalie had never known passion like this. The kind that took hold like a vice, making you willing to sell your soul for the pleasure. She loved him! Her eyes shot open at that thought, and then his tongue licked her from bottom to top, sending her over the edge. Her heart stopped along with everything else, and her body shot off the bed, pushing against his hot mouth. He remained lodged between her thighs, which gripped him as her muscles seized, inside and out. She shook from the force of her orgasm, and gripped the bed so she wouldn't float away. Another wave struck her, more powerful than the first, and she screamed, "JOHN!"

He was more aggressive now, wanting to be generous with her, but knowing chivalry was truly dead. He was wincing from the power of his hard on. Her orgasm had come, but the second had won him the prize. His name was loud and sharp, and he rose from below the sheet and found her mouth. She moaned against his tongue, and he broke away long enough to grab a condom. Then he was pushing into her, holding her legs against her body, and they both got swept away.

They had made love four times in as many hours, and neither could keep their hands to themselves. They had opened Pandora's Box, and for one night, were not going to close it. This time they were frenzied and fierce. John pumped into her with a passing concern that he would hurt her, but she clung to him with a need that matched his own. He grabbed her hands and pinned her arms over her head, watching her eyes as he plundered her body.

"John!" she yelled again, arching into him.

He snapped. Her voice triggered a sensation that began from his penis and rippled through him like a stone in a pond. "Gawwwwd!" he cried, still moving inside her. He managed to hold himself up, and continued to pin her to the bed with his body and his stare. He felt the fire below pass from himself to her, and she convulsed one last time, pulling him in as far as he could go.

When her shudders subsided, Natalie stared up and licked her dry lips. She lifted herself slightly and took his mouth into a firm kiss. Her chest still heaved, needing air, and she watched as the blue of his eyes grew deeper in the aftermath of sex. He held himself over her, keeping her hands pinned beneath his, and then he smiled a cocky grin. She knew what was coming.

"Now that I know how to make you lose arguments, you're in big trouble."

She laughed, and felt a small shiver travel her spine as he pulled from her body. "That's not exactly something you can do in the middle of the station." He slid against her, keeping her close, and rested his head on the pillow beside her. Their eyes were locked as they faced each other.

"I wouldn't count on that." He grinned again, and then yawned, allowing the first stirrings of tiredness to creep into his bones. She wiped a wet strand of hair from his forehead, before resting her hand against his face. "You should get some sleep," he said, seeing the toll he was taking on her with his demands.

"I tried that already." He smiled. "I'm not the only one who's tired."

"Yeah, but it's a good tired." He came closer and kissed her softly once, and then twice. Then nestled back against the pillow. "So we'll both sleep," he suggested, pulling her against him. He looked at the state of the bed, and then got up to collect the blankets that draped the floor. When they were both tucked tightly beneath the warmth of the quilt, he pulled her close, pressing her back against his chest. "Sleep," he instructed, yawning over her ear.

Natalie yawned too, content to stay like this forever. Then her eyes snapped open, remembering. She pulled from his embrace and padded across the ice cold floor in her bare feet.

"What are you doing?" he asked, watching her.

She grabbed her purse and then ran back to the bed and jumped onto it, anxious to get warm. She held up her phone. One message. She listened and then dialed, very aware of his eyes. "Hey, what's up?" She nodded, listening to the caller closely. "Right. Well, obviously I'm not there. You should go home and I'll see you tomorrow." She chuckled quietly, and met John's curious stare. "I'm good where I am, thanks. Alright. Yeah, see you in a few hours." She hung up and threw the bag on the table. Then she crawled back under the blanket and pressed her skin against his for heat.

John shivered, feeling a chill from her naked body. She was in bed with her back against him. "Well?" he said at last, when it became apparent that she wasn't going to volunteer any information.

She turned to look at him. "That was Jarod. Earlier, when we were otherwise engaged," she stopped talking long enough to flash a playful smirk, "I thought I heard a buzzing. It was my phone. Apparently, since I ditched Romero, he was sent to my house to keep an eye on me."

"You're not there."

"See, that's why you're an FBI Agent?" He grabbed her and started tickling her.

"Stop," she yelled, squirming. He did. She looked him straight in the eye. "I told him I was good here."

John kissed her. He gripped her hair and pressed her into the pillow, taking his time. When he lifted his head he saw the look in her eyes. "Oh no," he began, turning her around. "We're getting some sleep." She laughed, and then sighed, closing her eyes. His arm hung over her waist possessively and his knee slipped between her legs. She sighed again, and then finally drifted off.


	16. Chapter 16

Kismet pt.16

It took all of Natalie's strength to lift her heavy eyelids, but she managed. Her face was pressed into a pillow, and she stretched out an arm, only to be greeted with empty space. The sound of running water reached her ears and she smiled, realizing that John was in the shower. She curled tighter into the quilt for a moment, feeling the chill in the morning air, and then rolled over and glanced at the bathroom. The door was closed, and she sighed and looked at her watch. 9:35am. Her body was blissfully exhausted and if she could she would purr like a cat. Last night had been the most erotic night of her life, and she didn't know what the hell she was going to do now? She had touched the flame and been scorched by it, so now what?

Sitting up, she reached over and checked her phone again. No messages. The water stopped, and her heart pumped faster in her chest. _Why am I so nervous? _The door opened and steam billowed into the room, but still no John. She secured the sheet and then lifted her knees, curling around them tightly. He stepped into the frame, clad only in his jeans, and met her eyes slowly. She smiled softly and tore her gaze away, searching the room for something to focus on other than him.

John sat at the end of the bed, covering his feet with socks, and tried to keep his breathing steady. She looked sexy wrapped up in his sheet. "I'm sorry if I woke you," he said, reaching for his shoes so that he wouldn't look at her.

"You didn't." This time he did look at her. Natalie flushed. "The shower didn't," she blurted, feeling more awkward than ever. He just stared, probing with those eyes of his, and she couldn't shut up. "You were gone," she offered quietly, revealing more than she really cared too.

He slid down the bed and placed a strong arm on either side of her, staring into her eyes. A small grin flashed across his features. "Yeah well, I thought it was best to sneak away or I wouldn't be going into work today."

She lifted her tiny hands to the sides of his face and kissed him gently. "Last night was the most erotic night of my life," she confessed, feeling thousands of butterflies release into her stomach._ What the hell, Natalie?_ she silently berated.

John smiled, kissing her again, feeling the hunger that threatened them both. He pulled back. "The most erotic moment of my life," he began, stopping just long enough to see her eyes widen with interest, "was hearing you whisper my name against my ear while I was inside you." His body began to burn. She kissed him again, losing her delicate fingers in his wet hair and her tongue in his willing mouth. He slid from her grasp and walked to the other end of the bed. "I really do have to go to work."

She nodded. "Yeah. I guess we have to face reality again sometime, huh?" He nodded, unable to look away anymore than she could. "John, listen, about last night..." He stopped her with his hand. "At the park...," she pressed, knowing that was not what he was expecting. He frowned, letting her continue. "I found something before the shooting."

"What?"

John sat on the bed, keeping far enough away that he couldn't touch her. She grabbed the photo that had been buried in the muck and handed it to him. He took a good, long look before meeting her eyes again. "Why is this the first I'm seeing this?" he asked more harshly than he intended. He was irritated.

"Well," she started, growing annoyed herself at his tone. She rose from the bed, yanking the sheet so that it came with her. "I was going to tell you before you showed up at my crime scene and started yelling and forcing me to the hospital. Besides, when was a good time? When we ran into Michael or when we were..." She drew his attention to the bed with a flick of her wrist.

He took a breath and decided to nip this before it escalated. "Alright." His voice was softer, conceding. "Tell me everything." She relaxed slightly and brought him up-to-date on the events of last night. He took it all in, feeling a familiar rage turn his stomach. That bastard had been there, this could be over! He could have been caught before getting anywhere near Natalie with a gun. "I should get this to the lab," he said, grabbing a clean black t-shirt and putting it on. When he looked up, she was still standing there in the sheet. She was quite the sight. Her hair was messed, covering her bare shoulders, and the sheet was loose, hiked up around her knees. He licked his lips, remembering the treasures he could find beneath the thin cloth. "You should shower and I'll take you home." She gathered her scattered clothing and darted into the tiny bathroom, shutting him out.

* * *

><p>John didn't know how long he had been staring at the bathroom door, but she was in the shower and he wanted to be in there with her. He ran his hand through his hair, shaking the thoughts of a naked, wet Natalie from his brain. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Pretend that he hasn't tasted or touched her? That he hasn't been seared by her? He took a deep breath and went to the window, needing an escape from his torturous thoughts. Outside, in the world that threatened to crash in on them, the wind blew quite strongly. A storm was coming.<p>

The loud sounds of clanging pipes filled the room, and he turned in amusement. It was the telltale sign that she just shut the water off. He glanced around the space for a moment, trying to see it as she would. The word _dump_ was kind, and he smirked, noting the pages of a report that were still scattered about the floor exactly where he had left them last night. It certainly wasn't what she deserved. He wasn't entirely sure he deserved it either?

Slowly, he found the door to the bathroom again and sighed. What was he supposed to say to her? That he was staying? He couldn't lie. He could say that last night was just that, last night, but that would be a lie too. She was not a one night stand for him and he wouldn't hurt her by pretending otherwise, but then again, maybe he was looking at this the wrong way? She was still with Vega. Maybe he was her one night stand? His jaw clenched at that thought. The door opened and she stepped into the room cautiously, obviously as confused as he was about what had happened here?

"Hey," he said in greeting.

She smiled awkwardly. "Hey." Their eyes were locked again, and Natalie felt the instantaneous effects he had on her body. She glanced around briefly, before picking up papers and putting them by the lamp. He helped her clean a bit. "So," she began, looking amused, "the Domino Hotel?"

He laughed, feeling himself relax a little bit. He shrugged his shoulders. "A friend recommended it." She looked at the floor, still smiling. He decided to stop being a coward. "Natalie?" She slowly lifted her head, waiting. "Last night was unexpected."

She licked her lips. "Wonderfully unexpected?"

He grinned, feeling his heartbeat pick up speed. "Oh, yeah." He took a breath. "I'm not really sure where we go from here, you know? What happens now?"

"I know what you mean." And she did. She knew all the same things about him that she knew last night. When everything was said and done he would leave. The case would be over, and she wasn't naive enough to think that anything has changed. Her heart ached at that thought, and she too, took a breath. "This is silly, right? I mean, we're adults." He nodded, listening to her closely. "Look John, I can't begin to explain this thing that's between us, but it's always there. I left the diner last night needing to clear my head, and as it turns out..." she paused, searching out his eyes, "that meant you."

"I don't want to hurt you Natalie."

"I know that. I'm doing that just fine on my own." He frowned slightly, not understanding her meaning. "John, I've been with Christian for a year and a half." She saw something flash in his eyes, but he lowered them before she could read what it was. "He loves me." This time he looked at her and she saw very clearly what was reflecting back at her. Anger. She pressed on. "In a very real way, though not technically I guess, I committed adultery last night."

"Natalie...?" John started to interupt, but she shook her head, determined to finish.

Her eyes glistened slightly, and her voice deepened. "I know I'm supposed to feel ashamed and be full of regret and self-loathing for my sins, but.." He took a step toward her. "I'm not," she managed to get out, "I don't." Then he was across the room and kissing her as though he would never let go. She felt the familiar sensation of his hands burying themselves in her hair, and she did the same, pressing as close to him as she could get. He lifted her and they tumbled onto the bed in one swift move. _How do we always get here? _she wondered briefly. Then his hand was under her shirt and cupping her breast and she moaned into his deep mouth.

The ring of a phone echoed, bouncing off the poorly painted walls, and John regretfully pulled away from her eager lips. He kissed her quickly, and then stood and found his phone, which had fallen to the floor at some point during their time together. "McBain," he answered, shortly. "Tell him I'm on my way." He hung up and reached out to her. She took his hand and allowed him to pull her up from the mattress. "I have to go in."

Her eyes were wide. "Not another girl?"

"No. Hodge's is on the warpath because I've been missing in action." He smiled softly, gliding a thumb along the seam of her lower lip for a moment. He spotted her nylons bunched on the floor near his duffel bag. He picked them up and handed them to her, glancing down at her tiny bare feet.

"Ah, I don't think we can save them?" she said, mockingly. She threw them into the garbage can that sat beside the folding table. "So, are you going to take me home or what?"

He nodded, grinning again. As she walked toward the door, he grabbed her arm, and she winced. He dropped his hand immediately. "God, I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I keep forgetting it's there too." She turned, waiting to see why he stopped her?

"There's one other thing we should talk about," he said, licking his lips and frowning.

Natalie suddenly felt very nervous. She could see how uncomfortable he was. "Just say it, John."

"I feel like an ass even having to mention this." She continued to stare. "Last night," he began, "that first time?"

Her throat felt dry. "Yeah?"

He blew out a breath of frustration and moved away, leaning against the front door. "I didn't...well, we didn't..." He stopped talking and stared at the floor for a minute, before finding her sharp gaze again. "I didn't use any protection."

Natalie's eyes widened, feeling slightly foolish for not having realized that herself. "Oh," she said, trying to process the implications of what he was saying. She took a few moments, before walking up to him confidently. "It'll be fine."

"You don't know that?"

"No, not really I guess, but I think it will be fine." He continued to stare and she took his hand in hers, feeling the contact from head to toe. "If something happens, then we can worry about it, but right now we've kind of got enough on our plates, don't you think?"

"Are you sure you're okay with that?"

She smiled, standing on her toes and placing a single kiss on his lips. "I don't say anything I don't mean."

His chest was beginning to feel heavy under the weight of his need for her. "I'll remember that." They stared a moment longer, and then he opened the door. She ran back for her purse and followed him to his car.

* * *

><p>John pulled up to the curb and parked in front of a very cute house. It had a welcoming feel to it. It reminded him of the house he grew up in, in Jersey, though this one was much smaller. "Are you sure you're going to be okay? Maybe I should come in?"<p>

Natalie put a warm hand on his arm. "I'm fine, John." She flashed him her gun and smiled. "I'm pretty good at taking care of myself." He chuckled, nodding. "Besides, if you come in you probably won't make it into work."

He stared at her, knowing she was right. "Come here," he instructed, curling a hand behind her neck and pulling her across the seat. He pressed his lips against hers, enjoying the mingling of their hot breath. She opened for him, inviting him to take more, and he obliged. His tongue explored and teased, and very slowly, he moved her closer until she was straddling his lap.

"My neighbour's gonna love this," she breathed, claiming his mouth more aggressively. He was trying to say something, but she sought his tongue again and sucked on it. He groaned loudly, and then she found herself being tossed back onto the seat. She laughed.

"Get out," John ordered, panting. He was pointing to the door. "I mean it, out!"

"Party-pooper."

"Out."

She grinned and handed him the photo from the park. "You should take this in right away. I'd go now, but after ditching two police escorts, I think my uncle will actually fire me if I show up there too soon."

He took it. "So at work...?"

"Work is work, right?" she answered, trying to avoid another awkward conversation with John McBain. Then she stepped onto the sidewalk and shut the door. He stubbornly sat there while she checked the house before giving him the okay. He drove off, and she clicked the door shut, leaning against it with her eyes closed. She sighed and walked into her livingroom to check her messages. There were five. Two from Christian, one from her mother, one from Jarod, and an angry one from Bo. _Work should be fun today! _she thought, going to her bedroom to change into some clean clothing.

Natalie grabbed her keys and headed for her car. She had one important thing to attend to before work.


	17. Chapter 17

Kismet pt.17

John hesitated outside the door, holding the knob before turning it and stepping into the office. He felt uncomfortable and he knew exactly why.

Bo looked up briefly, wrapping up his phone call, and then waved McBain further into the room. "I was beginning to think you left town," he said sarcastically, as the agent took a seat across from him. "Where have you been?"

John shrugged. "I was around." Bo continued to stare. "I needed some time," he offered, refusing to elaborate. He liked Bo, but it was none of his business how he had spent the night. _With his niece! _his mind screamed, causing him to shift in the seat slightly.

Bo tossed the latest round of police reports at him, watching him closely. John wasn't the squirrelly type, but he was certainly acting jumpy about something? "Hodges is coming in this afternoon, and he's not happy with you my friend."

John smirked. "What else is new?"

"Director Kehler is accompanying him." John's head shot up, surprised. "Yeah, I thought that'd get your full attention." Bo leaned on his desk. "I think you pissed off your boss."

John tilted his head, agreeing with a bemused expression. "I'm surprised it took this long?" He put the reports on the surface of the desk. "So what else has been going on? Anything with the canvassing?"

Bo shook his head. "Not yet."

"Well, here." He handed over the picture that Natalie had found at the park. "Maybe we'll finally get lucky with this?"

Bo surveyed the photo closely for a moment, before finally meeting his eyes. "He was there."

"He was there."

"So, that's when he started watching you?" Bo leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "Where did you get this?"

"Natalie found it," John answered, beginning to hear those warning bells in his head again. He watched his friend's expression change to one of suspicion.

"Last night?" Bo asked. John nodded. " And she just gave it to you?"

"I stopped by on my way in." He averted his eyes for a quick moment, not enjoying the white lie that was coming out of his mouth. He respected Bo.

Bo continued to watch him. "Really, because she's not at home?"

John said nothing.

"According to Jarod, she stayed somewhere else last night. Any idea where?"

John took a breath, tensing slightly. He wasn't going to go out of his way to cover anymore. Clearly, there was no longer a need. He glared back defiantly. "Some," he answered tersely. "Natalie's a big girl, Commissioner. She can make up her own mind about things like that."

"Yeah, she can, but she's family. Which means I have to look out for her." He watched the young man nod slightly, understanding his position. He liked McBain a lot, but he loved Natalie and John was risky for her. But...he would reserve judgement for now, wanting to stay out of it if he could. He stood suddenly, walking to the door with the picture. "I'm going to the lab," he said simply.

John watched him go, feeling the tension in his neck and shoulders. He has been in Llanview for six days. How the hell have things gotten so complicated for him?

* * *

><p>Natalie rounded the corner and stopped when she saw him. His back was to her, so she took a moment to watch him work. He really was in his element. The little, brown-haired, brown-eyed girl, who had his undivided attention, was looking up with complete trust. The kind of trust only a child can give. He gently placed a Snoopy bandage on her knee, covering a scrape, and told a lame joke about a bear in a tutu. The little girl laughed and then he stood, ruffling her hair as he turned around.<p>

Natalie tensed, hugging herself as he approached. "Hey, got a minute?" she asked. Her heart was picking up speed, as he nodded and led her down the hall and into a tiny office.

"So what's up?" He took a seat behind the desk and looked back at her curiously. "Your arm giving you trouble?"

"No." She swallowed. "I need to talk to a doctor."

He grinned. "Well, I think you came to the right place." Michael watched her sit stiffly across from him. Her eyes bounced around the room, observing her surroundings. She was stalling.

"Is this your office?"

"I share it with four other doctors," he answered, trying to figure out why she was here? "Natalie, why do you need to see a doctor? Should I be worried?"

It was then that she realized how skittish she was behaving. "No," she said firmly, shaking off her nerves. She had to stop acting like a scared teenager. "No," she said again. "I need to discuss something private, and I don't want to do it with my usual doctor."

"Why?"

She sighed. "I'm a Buchanan, Mike. If I went to my own doctor, the entire town would know about it before I made it back to the station."

"Are you concerned about confidentiality, because we're bound by law to..."

She shook her head. "No, I'm not worried about people finding out why I'm seeing a doctor, just that I am." He stared at her, waiting for her to continue so that this visit made sense. "I had unprotected sex last night, and wanted to take some measures."

He leaned back into his chair and crossed his hands behind his neck. "Okay. Are you worried about disease as well?" She shook her head vehemently and frowned, squirming slightly in her chair. He shot forward, leaning on his desk and staring. "Nat, what aren't you saying, because you're acting weird? You and Chris are..." She held her hand up and he stopped talking.

She licked her dry lips. Confession time. "It wasn't with Chris."

Mike stared at his friend, not sure if he heard right. She wasn't the type to have casual sex or cheat, so...? His eyes widened in understanding and he suddenly got why she was so uncomfortable. "Wow," he said, not really sure how to proceed? She slept with Johnny. "My brother works fast doesn't he?" he blurted, and then instantly regretted it when he saw how pissed off she was at him.

"The McBain snottiness I can do without, Michael. I could use a friend though."

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding sincere. "Really. That was uncalled for, I'm just caught a little off guard here, you know?"

"Care to wear my shoes for a day?" she asked, letting some of her anger go. He chuckled. "Look, I wasn't exactly expecting or looking for your brother. He kind of snuck up on me. Anyway, here I am. Here we are."

"Alright," Mike began, getting down to business, "I assume your concern is pregnancy?" She nodded. "Okay, I've got something for you."

"In lamens terms please doc." She smiled.

He smiled back. "For the non-professional, it's aptly called the morning after pill. Like everything else in the medical world, it's not 100 percent, but I think it'll do the trick."

"Thank you," she said, quietly, lowering her eyes. "You know, you and John are nothing alike?"

"I've heard that before," he said, chuckling softly. Then his tone grew more serious. "Nat, unprotected sex was stupid. I know my brother well enough to know that pregnancy is probably your only worry, but I can tell you that he hasn't been living his life as a monk. And how long have you known him, a week? Two weeks?"

She stared at him a moment longer before speaking slowly. "Six days actually. I take it back, you're more alike than you know."

He frowned. "I'm about to cross the doctor/patient line even further," he said dryly. "You're my friend Nat, but you also had sex with my long lost brother. Can you tell me what's going on with you two?"

"Sex is going on, Mike." She said it, but she didn't mean it. It would be a lot easier to handle if it was just sex. She looked away, focussing on one of the diplomas on the wall. She loved him. The thought snuck up on her last night, and she pushed it aside, but she felt it with every breath. She just didn't know what to do about it?

"What about Christian?"

She met his inquisition head on. "I don't know?" she said, honestly. "John will be leaving soon enough, and Chris will be here. He loves me." Her eyes were wide, reflecting the confusion and fear that she felt. "I do love him too, I do, but I can't seem to remember that when I'm around your arrogant brother." She smiled again, but it was weak. She took a breath, and then refocussed on the hanging diploma.

"I'll write you a prescription."

"No," Natalie said quickly, placing a hand over the pad on his desk. "Mike, can't you just give me the damn pill?"

"It's the Buchanan thing again isn't it?" She grinned. "Okay, wait here and I'll be back in a second." He walked out, shutting the door behind him, and she sagged against the chair. _God, that was embarrassing! _But coming here had been the right decision. Mike could keep a secret, and until she knew what she was going to do about Agent McBain, she wanted this kept underwraps. She owed Chris more than what she was giving him.

* * *

><p>It felt like an eternity before Michael finally made his way back to the little office. Probably, because he had to wrap a burn, sew some stitches, and x-ray a swollen wrist on his way back from the pharmacy on the third floor. He was trying to get his head around the fact that Natalie was falling for John. She didn't have to say it, he could see it. He saw it after the shooting, but John was John, and he was afraid for the other hand, there was a selfish angle for him here. Maybe now John would have a reason to stay in town? Maybe he wouldn't lose his brother for another four years? He turned the knob and opened the door.<p>

"It's almost one o'clock!" Natalie shouted, standing. "What the hell, Mike?"

He shut the door slowly, trying very hard not to grin. "You seem upset."

Her hands flew to her hips. "Don't be a smartass! I have to get to work and find a madman, so maybe we could move this along?" She snatched the sealed bag from his hand.

"I'm sorry alright, but I'm the only doctor on call at the moment, and by the way, I'm doing you a favor here so you could show a little bit of appreciation." She had the decency to look sheepish. He gestured for her to take a seat, and she hesitated, but did as he asked. "The pill is a one shot deal. One pill, one dose."

She looked at her watch. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," he began, "do you know what you're getting into with my brother?"

She met his gaze. "I'm a big girl."

"You had unprotected sex with him after only knowing him for six days. You cheated on your boyfriend of over a year. That's not like you, Nat." She rose from the chair again. "Listen, I'm not trying to preach here."

"No?"

He grinned, shaking his head. "No. Look, there's a lot about John that you don't know. A lot Natalie."

"Like Caitlyn," she said.

He was surprised. "Wait? You know about Caitlyn? How?"

"John told me." She couldn't help it, she was enjoying the look of complete shock on his face. "Believe it or not, we've actually talked."

Michael walked past her and took a seat. "Okay detective, I guess maybe I don't know everything about you and my brother?"

She turned for the door. "You really don't," she said, opening it. "Thanks Mike." Then she left.

He continued to stare for another moment, and then ran to answer the page that was bellowing over the speaker system.

* * *

><p>John was sitting in Natalie's office and studying the scrabble piece that had been hand-carved out of pine wood. <em>What did this mean? <em>It meant something, but hell if he knew what, and why did the girl in the alley have Caitlyn's photo shoved down her crushed throat? This guy was trying to bring him in and make him a personal part of the killing experience, part of the equation, but why now? A sound interrupted his thoughts, and he turned to the door to find Jerry standing there. "The Commissioner's office, now!" he ordered. John sighed and slowly rose, feeling the sudden need to take an aspirin.

He stepped into Bo's office and found Hodges and Kehler waiting for him. No Bo anywhere. _Great! _he thought sarcastically. _So this execution is to be kept in-house? _He strode over to the desk and shook Kehler's hand. "Jack," he said in greeting. He looked at Jerry and then took a seat and waited for their next move.

"McBain. How are you John?"

He looked at Jerry again. "You tell me Jack?"

"Why don't you tell me what's being done to catch the homicidal maniac that's terrorizing this burg?"

"I thought Jerry would have kept you up-to-date?" He turned his gaze on his co-worker. "I guess you're slipping, huh?" John grinned, finding great pleasure in Hodge's face as it turned more red with each passing second. Kehler waved his hand slightly, keeping his minion in check. "That's a good lap dog you got there, Jack."

Jerry shot off the couch, but didn't get very far before being shut down by his boss. He was livid. "You're an ass, McBain."

John chuckled, and turned back to the real presence in the room. "Are you here for my badge?"

He took a seat. "Why don't you start with answering my question? I've gotten reports that you're...distracted. Are you?"

McBain sat squarely in his chair and met the other man's gaze unflinchingly. "I'm here to do what I always do. Catch this son of a bitch."

This time Jerry chuckled. "Please. You're here for the redhead."

"If you have something to say about the redhead," a voice interrupted from the doorway, "I suggest you say it to her face." Natalie walked into the room with her hands on her hips. She was furious, and met each man's eyes boldly.

John grinned again, feeling strangely proud. "Detective Buchanan," he said, nodding toward the desk, "meet Director Kehler of the Violent Crimes Division of the FBI."

She stood her ground, ignoring his hand as he stood to shake. "If I'm being accused of misconduct during this investigation, then I'd like to see some proof, gentlemen."

Kehler sat back down. "This inquiry has nothing to do with you detective. It's a bureau matter."

"Really, because I was under the impression that I was the topic of discussion." She watched the two men squirm slightly. "Agent McBain and I are working to catch a particularly nasty serial killer. Do either of you have a problem with that?"

Kehler stood again. "I have a problem with being interrupted," he said flatly. "If you insist on joining the meeting, then kindly pull up a chair and we'll all get to the heart of the matter."

Natalie sat next to John and waited for what came next.

Kehler turned his attention back to his agent. "John, answer the question please."

He sighed, and rambled off all of the clues and leads that they have accummulated since his arrival in town. When he was finished, he spoke to Hodges directly. "Why are we all here, Jerry?"

"I told you before that I think you're a good agent, McBain," he answered, barely keeping the anger behind his voice from taking over, "but it's a mistake to keep you on this case."

"Why's that Jerr, because you don't care for the way I do things?"

"I don't care for your tactics," he boomed, "you're right about that! But that's not why?" He looked at Natalie. "You're why?"

Natalie officially lost her temper. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the two of you and this little love connection you've got going on."

"You're out of line, Hodges," John barked, angry now too. He hated that they were bringing Natalie into this farce.

"I don't think so. You haven't been fully focussed on this case since you got here, and last night the detective stayed with you in your room."

John stood from his chair, but Natalie rose, separating them. She placed a firm hand on his chest and shook her head. He frowned, refraining from beating Hodges into the ground. "Surveilling me, that's cute?"

Natalie wasn't fooled by his snide behavior. She could feel the rage pulsing off of John. He was as upset about this as she was, and she turned her wrath on a man she thought she knew pretty well. "You slimy son of a..."

"My tactics might seem extreme," he interrupted, "but I'll do what I have to for the good of this case."

She walked right up to him, getting into his face. "Where I spend my time, and with whom, is none of your business. I'm doing my job and so is McBain, and you, you're kissing ass and taking all the credit!" She was pissed. "I knew you were ambitious Jerry, but I never knew how far you would go to climb your ladder?"

"My job is to keep track of this case, and keep my agents on track. You're compromising that. For what, fuck time?"

Natalie slugged him. He fell back onto the couch, holding his jaw, as John reached for her. He pulled her against his chest, and gripped her arms tightly, very aware of how sore her arm was going to be later.

"Alright," Kehler errupted, "enough! Detective, please leave the room now."

Everyone recognized the tone. There was no room for misinterpretation. She felt John release his grip and she stalked for the door.

"You too Hodges. McBain, sit!"

John hesitated, meeting her eyes briefly, before following the instruction. The click of the door filled their ears as Jerry shut them in. He waited, feeling like his head was in a guillotine.

Kehler sat back down and stared. "Hodges is an ass," he said at last. John nodded, clearly agreeing. "But that doesn't mean he's wrong."

"I'm doing my job, Jack. You send me after these guys because you know I can get them. Let me do my job."

"I'm not taking you off the case, McBain. I haven't seen anything here to warrant that, but make no mistake about it, you are being watched. You've always been a machine before, singular in your goal." John continued to stare in silence. "Jerry's not wrong about you and her. Messing with the lead detective is a bad move and you know it. You're letting your attentions be divided and I want it stopped, or I will be taking that badge. Do we understand each other?"

John nodded, wanting to tell this man where to go but he loved this job, no, he needed it. He needed to hunt these animals down and stop them from committing heinous crimes upon the world, and he needed to do it for Caitlyn. He owed her that much.

Kehler stood. "Good." He walked to the door. "Hurry up and do what you do, McBain." Then he left.


	18. Chapter 18

Kismet pt.18

Natalie was aggitated. After the ambush in Bo's office this afternoon, John took off and she had no idea where he was or what he was doing? He barked orders on his way out the door, and then left her to deal with Hodges and Kehler. _Ass! _she thought, yawning and rubbing her eyes. The pile of reports on her desk were beginning to blur together. She needed to take a break and she needed to stop thinking about John.

"Am I interupting?" a deep voice spoke.

Her eyes were wide in surprise. "Hi," she breathed, lowering her gaze for a second. "What are you doing here Chris?"

He smiled. "Well I tried calling, but got tired of making small talk with Davis." She stared. "Don't get me wrong, he's got a lovely telephone voice."

She grinned, and wanted to be comfortable with him like they always have been, but that was impossible now.

"So, Detective Buchanan? Do you think you might spare a few minutes for a friend?" He waited. "Maybe take a walk?"

"You know, a walk would be good. I've been cooped up in here so long I'm forgetting how to interact with people." She grabbed her phone and walked out of the office with him following.

They found themselves strolling slowly around Angel Square and stopping at the familiar statue.

"You know," Nat began, "she really is beautiful. You should have never stopped sculpting. You did a great job with her Chris."

He turned, looking at her softly. "But not with you."

She met his gaze. "That's not true. You've never been anything but great with me." Her phone rang, interupting, and she answered it. "Yeah? Alright, 30 minutes, got it. I said I'll be there now back off! I'll grab the reports from my house so we can go over them beforehand. Uh-huh. No, a task force is a good idea. Yes, I'll make sure Bo knows, he should be there. You just make sure you get everyone you can in the meeting room. I said I'm on it, damn it! You're an insufferable ass, you know that?" She hung up and turned her attention back to the man at her side. He was watching closely, and the look in his eyes was different somehow, like he knew something that she didn't?

"He's going to leave, you know?" Chris felt as though a cement block was resting on his chest. He loved her and didn't want to lose her.

Natalie chose not to respond to that comment. What could she say anyway? It was true. She could wake up tomorrow, and McBain could be nothing more than a memory to torture her throughout her life. She swallowed. "We should probably talk." She didn't want to hurt him, but knew that she would, that she has. She sighed, ashamed.

His eyes narrowed and he glanced back at the statue. "I love you, Natalie." He stared at her again. "I love you."

She couldn't breathe. She felt the tears that were visibly stinging her eyes, the one's she wouldn't allow to fall. "I slept with him Chris," she blurted. He took a step back, as though she'd slapped him. "Last night. I went to his hotel after leaving the diner and I stayed with him all night." He turned his back to her for a moment and ran a hand over his face, and when he met her green eyes again, there was an anger that she had never seen before. Would never have suspected could ever be there? He was betrayed, and the pain reflecting back at her was twisting her stomach into knots. Then without saying a word he walked away from her and left the park.

* * *

><p>Bo glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearly six o'clock now, and still no sign of Natalie. "Where the hell is she?"<p>

John shrugged. "Who knows? She said she'd be here. Listen, let's get this thing started so that we can still use what's left of tonight. There's a lot to do." Bo nodded, and Hodges strolled into the room. "Oh, good. You're here," John greeted, sarcastically. Then he whistled, gathering everyone's attention.

"Alright, listen up," Bo shouted, impressed with how many men were here, even with such short notice. Every single one of them wanted to catch this wacko before another girl turned up dead. "We're here to go over everything we know about this perp, and bounce ideas off of one another, so let's not be shy? If we're gonna catch this guy we need to work together." The fidgeting in the room quieted slightly, and he continued. "I'm turning it over to Agent McBain, so I want everyone listening."

John shook the Commissioner's hand quickly and began to address the room. "Okay, there's not much, but I can tell you a few things about what to look for. This guy is..."

"Smart?" Jarod interupted.

"No," John answered confidently. "He's no dummy, but he has an unfair advantage over us. We're closer to him than he realizes." The shuffling picked up again, and he held up his hand. "Listen up. He was abused as a child, most likely by a woman. It's usually the mother, but not always."

"What else?" Davis asked, before dropping his gaze when John looked at him.

"He's probably between the age of 25 and 35, and caucasian. He strangles his victims for control and power, which is likely the only time he feels superior. Having sex with the corpses has nothing to do with that though, it's something else entirely." He scanned the room, noting how intently everyone was paying attention. That was good, but where the hell was Natalie? "The sexual assault could simply be a bi-product of his kill. A lustful impulse over his conquest, but I don't think so. He didn't start out assaulting the bodies, it developed over time and he's sending messages. He's trying to tell us something and we're not hearing what it is...yet."

"John," Jarod began, "then what the hell is driving this guy? If not lust or power, what then?"

"Love," McBain answered. He didn't have time to ellaborate though, because Christian Vega entered the room and stalked forward. John watched him approach and saw a look of complete hatred, right before a fist hit him square in the face. He crashed to the floor, feeling a metal garbage can crumple beneath his weight. His mouth slammed against the hard wood and a searing bolt of pain shot straight into his head, splitting his brain. There was a commotion above him he knew, but took a minute to shake off the pain and shock of what just happened. Then he rose and found Chris restrained by a couple of uniforms. John met his cold gaze and wiped his mouth. The back of his hand was smeared with blood, his blood. "Let him go," he ordered, keeping his eyes on him. He wasn't about to be sucker punched again.

"Are you going to arrest me?" Chis asked heatedly. He was expecting exactly that.

"Yes," Bo answered.

"No," John said, shaking his head firmly.

Hodges leaned casually against the wall with a wide grin. "Arrest you? Hell, I'd like to give you a medal."

John ignored him, and kept his attention on the man who wanted to beat him into the ground. "Let him go," he said again, more aggressively. The officers looked to Bo, who finally nodded. They released their grips and Chris walked up to John again, staring at him hard. John stared back, waiting. "Are we done here?"

Natalie strolled into the room holding a box of papers, and stopped short. _Why is Chris here? _she wondered, trying to make sense out of what she was seeing?

Christian looked at her. "We're definitely done here," he answered, staring at John before leaving the way he came.

Natalie came closer and saw the blood coming from John's mouth. She looked at him wide-eyed, not knowing what the hell to say or do? Everyone was staring.

John placed a palm under his chin and moved his jaw around. It was seizing up. "Alright," he boomed, "show's over." Then he snatched Hodge's nearly empty cup of coffee from out of his hand. "Are you done with this?" He nodded, and John spat blood into the styrofoam.

Natalie dropped the box on the desk at the front of the room, and turned and left. She couldn't be here, and felt like a coward because of it.

This time Bo whistled. "Shut up! Let's get back to business!"

The room settled and John wiped his lip again. He could feel the cut on the inside of his cheek, and taste the blood that kept sliding down his throat. "This guy's motivated by love. Most likely with someone who didn't return his feelings, or doesn't even know he has them?"

"Why would you say that?" Jarod asked, confused. "How could you know that?"

John pierced him with his blue eyes. "By the pride he takes in his kills. The care he puts into the bodies." Several voices were buzzing, trying to process all the information they were getting. Not too mention the unexpected floor show in the middle of the police station. "I want every single one of you to read over the details of these murders tonight, and I want you thinking about this guy's motives when you're out there canvassing the city." There was a pause. "Is that clear?" He scanned the room. "Good. Let's move." The crowd began to filter out of the space.

Bo walked over to John. "Here," he said, holding out a rag with some ice in it. He glanced at the box on the desk. "She's probably in her office," he suggested, indicating that Jerry should follow.

Hodges stopped beside his agent. "Nice work. Just stay focussed." Then he followed his friend out the door.

John spat into the cup again and placed the rag on his cheek. He hurt. His eyes slid over the floor, seeing the trash can mangled against the wall. He took a breath and walked to Natalie's office, needing to see her.


	19. Chapter 19

Hi everyone! Here is another sexy time chapter, so the highest rating once again applies. Have fun! :)

* * *

><p>Kismet pt.19<p>

Natalie sat behind her desk and stared blankly at the filing cabinet that stood flush against the opposing wall. She was trying to figure out how her life spiralled so completely out of her control? When, was another story. She knew exactly when. The moment John McBain approached her at the crime scene in the park, she began to steadily lose her footing. She let him get to her, and now she was hiding out in her office too embarrassed to face anyone. Her eyes shot to the door when the knob jiggled roughly trying to come loose.

"Open the door Natalie," he said from the hallway.

She sat there, staring but not moving. It was locked, and as far as she was concerned it would stay that way, but he had other plans. She heard a familiar sound, and sighed as he opened the door and stepped inside uninvited. John picked the lock. "Get out," she said flatly, shuffling papers around her desk with aggression. A click reached her ears as she watched him push on the wood and lock the deadbolt.

"Why would I do that?" He planted himself firmly across from her, feeling the animosity so acutely it was stifling.

"This is my place of work. I don't need your help and I don't want to have a heart-to-heart. I want you gone."

He crossed his powerful arms over his chest and met her hostility head on. "You're pissed at me. Why?"

"You're joking, right?" She stood up, making her way around the desk and moving toward him. "Why would I be pissed? Hmm? That's a tough one." His eyes narrowed and grew dark. She could see his anger creeping to the surface, waiting to erupt. "Just leave John."

He shook his head. "I'm not going to do that Natalie." He closed the distance between them. "I get why you're angry, but why are you angry with me?"

"Because it's your fault!" she yelled, running her hands roughly through her hair in exasperation. He just watched her. "I broke Christian's heart today, for what? For you? I don't even know what this is?" The words were flooding out now, and she couldn't stop herself from venting all her rage and frustration onto him. It wasn't fair, but it was what it was. "We had sex, and I betrayed someone who I thought I would spend the rest of my life with, so you tell me how I should be feeling right now?" She didn't need him to answer because she already knew. She felt sick, and hated herself deeply. Even now, after everything, she felt the effects of his nearness. Her body was humming. "I want you to leave." She did. She wanted it more than anything in her life, but he shook his head again and grabbed her arms, holding her in place. She winced briefly, but they both ignored it.

His face was expressionless as he looked down on her, but his voice was raw with emotion. "It wasn't just sex, and you know it."

"No I don't."

He backed her up against the desk. "You do," he insisted, feeling a heat blazing throughout his body with lightning speed. She shook her head vehemently, trying to deny what he was saying, but her eyes told a different story, a true story. He put his hands on her waist and lifted her onto the piece of furniture with ease. "You don't want me to go," he said confidently.

She closed her eyes and licked her lips. "I'm tired," she confessed weakly, meeting his fiery gaze again.

"Then stop pretending. Stop acting like we don't matter, and make no mistake about it, there is a we, Natalie."

She found it hard to breathe, and slid her hands cautiously around his neck. "I'll stop, if you stop." Then he bent and took her mouth and she felt a desire that rivaled her own. His lips pressed firmly against hers, as his tongue sought entrance. She opened for him willingly, yearning for the sensations that he evoked with his kisses, but it ended as quickly as it began when he pulled away from her sharply. She found his blue eyes and saw pain in them. "What?" she mumbled, breathlessly.

He gingerly ran his tongue over the inside of his cheek, very aware of the open cut that was still bleeding. When Vega hit him he felt the blow acutely, but when his face slammed into the floorboards he felt an entirely different kind of pain. His teeth sliced open the flesh of his mouth, and it still hurt like a bastard. He refocussed on Natalie and leaned down, kissing her softly this time. Her lips were supple, and she allowed him to set the pace. He continued to move slowly, gliding over her, until she whimpered beneath him. He sought out her tongue and explored her mouth with fervor. It didn't last. He hissed, yanking free of her grasp and biting his lower lip. "Son of a bitch!" he cursed, seeing the confusion on her face. She didn't say anything, but it was obvious that she expected an explanation. His thoughts were clouding over though, because her hands were gently caressing his stomach beneath his shirt and he couldn't concentrate. "I'm sorry, my mouth is a little sore," he finally offered as a reason. He grinned slightly. "Chris hits hard."

"He used to be a boxer."

He was surprised. "Now you tell me." She chuckled, wrapping herself around him and hugging him. Then she pushed him back and hopped off the desk. He watched her walk back to her chair. "What are you doing?" he asked, not ready for this to end.

"You should go see your brother," she suggested, playing with her paperwork again and avoiding his eyes. "Let him have a look at that cut."

John slowly circled closer, watching her as she kept herself busy. "Hiding again are we?"

"No," she answered softly, looking up at him. "No more hiding." She took a constricted breath into her tight lungs. "You're hurt John."

He grinned devilishly and pulled her to her feet. "No imagination," he teased, pushing her against the wall and stepping closer. Her chest was heaving and it made him thicken against the confines of his jeans. He pressed his body into hers, and inwardly rejoiced when she shut her eyes and slid her fingers through his hair. Her breath tickled his ear as she clung to him tightly.

"So now what?" she asked, sighing at the feel of his hands on her back. He was touching her everywhere, running his hands over her burning skin. He explored upward, cupping her breasts and squeezing them, and then continued on, caressing her soft stomach. A shiver shot up her spine when he placed a single kiss at the hollow of her throat.

"Now we do a little of this," he said seductively, unhooking the latch at her side. He tugged the zipper down over her rounded hip, and slid the cloth of her dress pants to the floor. It pooled loosely around her delicate ankles. "And maybe some of this?" He unbuttoned her tan blouse and pulled it from her, keeping his face tucked against the curve of her neck. Her breath scorched his soul, igniting a fire in his groin.

"John, we're in the police station." She wasn't really protesting. His mouth was gliding gently over the skin of her neck, making her quiver from head to toe.

He lifted his head and placed his mouth against her ear. "Then I guess we'll just have to be quiet, won't we?"

Natalie felt her stomach clench and her heart pump violently against her chest. All she could do was nod. He pulled his body from hers long enough to yank his shirt over his head. She moaned low in her throat when his naked flesh pressed her back against the cold wall.

"Ssshh!" he purred at her nape. "You're gonna have to do better than that detective." He lifted his head, staring directly at her. "No noise," he ordered, unclasping her bra and bending to her chest. He licked her nipples playfully, sucking them, careful of his wound.

Natalie inhaled sharply, jolted by the feel of his hot mouth. She felt dizzy. His control over her body was absolute and her surrender was swift.

John reached up her bare back and grabbed handfuls of hair, tugging with force. Her head went back, granting him access to her slender neck, and he licked his way up her sweet flesh. His cut was burning, but it paled in comparison to another hot part of himself. He untangled his fingers and opened his pants, sighing softly as she eagerly slid her hand inside and took hold of his length. His breathing grew louder. "Yes," he encouraged, yanking her underwear down her strong legs.

Natalie was completely taken over by her desire. She could almost step outside herself, and witness what was going on in her tiny office. Her, naked and pressed against a wall. The same wall that held dozens of pictures of death and mutilation. Him, stealing away her reason with his hands and encouraging her to stroke him free of his restraining blue jeans. She bit down hard on her lip, stifling the sound that threatened to escape when he slid his fingers between her legs. She wanted to scream out from the torture he was inflicting. He touched her, rubbed her, and slipped fingers inside her body. "Aaaah," she cried briefly, before she was able to clamp down on her vocals again.

"Ssshh!" he repeated softly, feeling his control drift farther away with every stroke of her talented hand. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting a need that was made that much more potent with every surpressed cry of pleasure. He couldn't take it anymore. He wrapped a strong arm around her tightly, lifting her from the floor. Her legs circled him, forcing their bodies closer. John frantically reached into his pants pocket and held a breath as she helped him with the condom. He grabbed her hair again, placing his mouth at her ear as he pushed his way deep. He felt her nails scrape his back, stopping only when he was filling her to the hilt.

"Aah, John!" she whispered, feeling tears slide down her face. She squeezed him inside and out, desperate for him and what he could give her.

Their breathing filled the space, and John felt his chest panting for more oxygen. He began to move, helpless to do anything but increase the friction that they were creating. "Natalie.." he breathed, burying his face into her neck again. She was wet and hot and slid against him so smoothly. He felt her grip his head, pulling his hair harder than he would have liked, and then heard her muffled cries as she rocked against him - her breath scorching his neck, before grabbing his earlobe and sucking. He slammed his mouth against her shoulder as his orgasm hit. Shudders racked his body and hers, making his legs shake slightly, but he continued to pump into her with even strokes. He was still so hard.

Natalie couldn't breathe. She sucked on his collar bone, needing something to keep from crying out. He began to climax shortly after her release, and she felt the power of his thrusts in every single inch of her. He shook, moving with frenzied need, as he finally exploded deep inside the most intimate part of her. She clung to him, allowing herself time to recover from the sensations that pulsed through her, boiling her blood. Slowly, she lifted her head and met his heated gaze. They stared at one another for a long moment, trying to process everything that just happened. "We just had sex in the police station," she said, stating the obvious.

John grabbed her hips and lifted her, feeling an acute sense of loss as her feet touched the floor. He flattened a palm against the wall, before removing the condom and pulling up his pants. He stayed right where he was, watching her closely, as she continued to breathe deeply. Then he watched her gather her clothing and silently slip back into them.

Natalie ran her hands over her blouse, smoothing the material, before finally meeting his eyes. She could see the wheels turning wildly in his head. He was waiting to see how she was feeling about him, and about what happened, so she walked closer. She softly touched his lower lip with her fingers before descending further and caressing his chest. He was beautiful and he didn't even know it. "Stop worrying," she said, "no more hiding, remember?"

John felt relief. He grabbed her head with his hands and kissed her, wanting to sink into her all over again. She moaned against his lips, imploring him to open for her, but he pulled back.

She frowned, leading him to her chair and then sitting in his lap. "Let me see."

He frowned now too, feeling like an imbocile. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine." She stared hard at him, but he wasn't going to budge. She decided to take another tack with him. "Please John?" she purred against his ear, taking his lobe between her teeth and nipping. His hand reached out and gripped her hair tightly. "Let me see," she tried again, feeling the heat that was burning her from the inside out. Her lips parted slightly, panting, and she watched his eyes as they studied her mouth with great interest. "Don't be a baby." He smirked and then opened his mouth. She winced slightly. "You're going to need some stitches I think? That's pretty nasty."

"Nasty, huh? You know just what to say to a guy."

She smiled and rested her forehead against his. Her palm lay open over his heart. "Your heartbeat is racing," she said, meeting his eyes again. They were so blue.

He licked his lips. "Well, you have an effect on me." Then he closed the distance between them and placed his lips on hers, desperately wanting to taste her. She grabbed his hand and began to play with his fingers, turning her attention away from temptation. They were both silent for a time, before John finally spoke. "So does this mean you're not mad at me anymore?"

She continued to look at his hands. "I don't think I was ever really mad at you?" she confessed.

"Oh, you were pissed!"

She laughed. "Yeah, but it was everything, you know?" She looked at him and could see that he understood. "You're kind of like a force of nature McBain."

This time he laughed. "Oh sweetheart, you're definitely the force here." He kissed her again, very softly, and then lifted her up before standing. He glanced around the floor and found his shirt. He turned, finding her staring. "So?"

She walked up to him, holding his gaze. "So?" she repeated, smiling. She reached out and closed the button of his jeans. His desire was blatant, and her pulse spiked along with her temperature. She pushed him away. "Go!" she ordered, pointing to the door. "Go take care of that cut so that you can kiss me properly."

John grinned. "Yes, ma'am." Then he took a breath and left the office without looking back. If he looked, he wouldn't be going anywhere.


	20. Chapter 20

Kismet pt.20

John spotted him right away. Michael was sitting alone by a window and had his face in a book. He shook his head slightly, amused. No matter how much time passed, he always had his face in a book. He walked over to the table. "Is this seat taken?" he asked.

Michael leaned back in his chair and dramatically rubbed his eyes. "John? Is that you?"

"That's funny." He sat down across from his smart ass little brother. They just looked at each other for a moment, and then he grabbed a spoon and started eating the jello on the table. Michael's jello.

"So is the hospital cafeteria high on your list of eateries, or did you actually come here to see me?" Mike felt the familiar anger creeping up, and did his best to keep a tight rein on it. He really was glad to see him, but he was also afraid. "John man, what's up?" he pushed, impatiently.

John stopped eating and stared at Michael with intensity. "How long are you going to hate me Mike?"

He met his stare and shrugged. "I don't hate you man. I'm just pissed. You missed a lot, you know?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I know."

Mike blew out a breath and leaned forward. "But you're here now right?" John nodded. "So, are you gonna tell me or what?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Come on Johnny? I'm talking about who hit you in the face." He grinned, he couldn't help it.

John smirked. "Oh, so you think it's funny do you? Well, you would." He glanced out the window and watched the rain for a moment. Mike's eyes were pinned on him. He was waiting. "It was Vega," he confessed at last, noting how his brother's grin widened at the news. "What?"

Michael chuckled softly. "You know you deserved it right?"

John looked at him curiously. "What makes you say that?" Mike dropped his grin. "Who you been talkin' to Mikey?"

He sat back and ran a hand through his hair. "Hell!" He knew he was busted. "Alright, Natalie was here this morning and we talked about some stuff, okay?" John just stared. "Don't look at me like that man. That's all you're getting."

"Is she alright?" he asked, concerned. He knew there was no point in pushing because his brother was a stubborn ass.

"Physically she's fine."

John frowned. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means exactly what you think it means, brother." Mike wasn't about to back down on this. Natalie was his friend. "What are you doing John? Do you even know?"

John was angry. What went on between he and Natalie was their business, and he was sick of everyone thinking they had a say in things. "Listen up, doc. Nat's a big girl, and believe me she can take care of herself. What we do is between us." He leaned closer. "You got that Mike?"

"Well maybe if you were thinking with your brain and not another part of your anatomy, I wouldn't have to be involved at all?" He noticed a few glances from onlookers and lowered his voice. "Unprotected sex John? Stupid man."

John sat straighter and ran a hand over his face. "I know," he conceded. "Look, it just kind of happened." He met his brother's probing gaze. "I wasn't expecting her."

Mike's lip curled slightly. "That's what she said." He watched John smile. "You really like her, don't you?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "You're an ass."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I'm wrong."

John decided that a change of subject was in order. "So it turns out that Vega used to be a boxer. He hits pretty damn hard." Mike was smiling at him again, and he sighed. "How much do you charge for patching up family?"

Michael grew serious. "You alright?"

"Yeah, it's just my mouth. It sliced open when my teeth slammed into the floor."

He laughed. "Oh man, to be a fly on the wall..."

"Exactly why is my pain so damn funny to you?"

He chuckled again. "Because I haven't seen anyone knock you down since the second grade."

John watched his brother closely. He had missed him. "Yeah, well he sucker punched me."

Michael stood from his chair. "Come on." Then he walked away, knowing his brother would follow.

When they got to his tiny office, Michael gestured toward the chair and pulled up a seat alongside John. "Alright, open up." He took a look at the side of his brother's mouth. "This looks sore."

John pulled away. "Wow, that medical degree sure paid off."

Mike ignored him and grabbed some supplies from a cabinet. "This needs a couple stitches. No big deal." John just stared, and opened his mouth obediently. "So what's the deal?" he asked, while working on the wound.

"Huh?"

"You never volunteer for medical attention, so why this time?" He removed his hands and looked at him, waiting for an answer. John shrugged his shoulders. "Natalie made you come here, didn't she?" he pushed, smiling again.

"Natalie didn't make me do anything. I'm tired of tasting blood, alright."

"Uh-huh."

John took a breath. He hated the way Mike saw into him and he hated the way he always pushed things. "Look, let's just say the cut is getting in the way and leave it at that."

Michael chuckled again. "Open," he ordered, resuming his patch work. "You definitely like her."

John grabbed his arm and stood from the chair abruptly. "Okay, we're done here." He watched Michael about to speak, when his phone rang, interupting. He answered it. "McBain? I'm on my way." His eyes were serious when he looked at his brother. "I've got to go right now." He turned toward the door.

"John?" Mike called, tossing a tube of gel at him. "Put this on the cut. It should be fine in a day or two. Come back tomorrow afternoon and I'll take out the stitches." John nodded and then disappeared. Michael frowned. He hoped everything was okay?


	21. Chapter 21

Kismet pt. 21

For the first time ever, Natalie Buchanan felt out of place in her own home. She stood off to the side, silently watching as cop after cop trampled their way around her livingroom, along with the rest of the tiny house. She was feeling a lot of different things about this latest development, but mainly she felt anger. He had invaded her home and touched her things. Her personal things. She sighed, crossing her hands over her chest and glancing at the carpet. _Son of a bitch! _she swore, wanting to hit something, or more to the point, someone. A hand gently touched her shoulder and her head snapped up to find her friend staring at her with concern.

"Are you going to be okay?" Jarod asked.

"She's fine," another voice spoke from the doorway. Both heads turned to find McBain scanning the crime scene. "Jarod, did you get shots of everything?" He shook his head, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. "Then do your damn job."

He walked over to the agent. "I always do my job." He disappeared down the hallway.

John ignored Natalie's glare and stepped further into the room, observing it and its contents. "This isn't his usual MO."

She made her way over to him, still staring, and even more angry. "Nothing about this case is 'usual' anymore." He turned to looked at her. "Is it?"

He shook his head in frustration. "This doesn't make sense. He's a serial killer. They don't just change their habits." He met her green eyes with his blue ones. "What?"

"Maybe he's not changing his MO, maybe he's just changing his focus?"

John frowned. "You think what, that you're his new focus?" He paused, continuing to stare. "That I'm his new focus."

"I think a lot more than that and you're going to hate it." She wasn't going to back down anymore. She couldn't afford to keep giving him space and time, because now this wacko was pushing up his agenda. Now he was pushing his way into their lives, and her things damn it!

He took a deep breath, afraid that he already knew what she was about to say. He knelt in front of the couch. "You're wrong Natalie."

"I'm not wrong John, and it's time you face that fact."

He stood abruptly, pinning her with a cold stare. "Back off right now."

Natalie felt her chest constrict. She hated having to always be the one to push this. She softened her voice. "Look, I'm not saying that any of this is Caitlyn's fault, but it does have something to do with her. Can't you see that?"

He shook his head. "That's not what I see. I see you jealous of a ghost."

She stepped back as though he'd struck her. Her hands went to her hips, and she kept her eyes trained on his. No more hiding. "Do you really believe that?" He just stared hard. "John? Answer me. Is that really what you think of me?"

This time he looked away. "Everybody out!" he shouted, waiting until the room was clear. Then he turned back to face her. "No." His voice sounded raw. "But you're wrong. I mean, look at this." He gestured to the items spread carefully over the couch. "Don't you think it's more likely that this has more to do with you and me? With us?"

Natalie scanned the piece of furniture and took in the sight for the 100th time. A deep, navy blue set of underwear was carefully spread out over the cushion. Lingerie that wasn't even hers. It was almost laughable, and she squelched the nervous chuckle that threatened to come out. And there were photos everywhere. Photos of her outside the station, outside the diner, outside John's hotel room. "I'm not saying that's not a possibility," she said, facing him again, "but I keep coming back to that shot of Caitlyn on the dead girl. Why her, and why that picture?" She stepped closer, feeling the heat from his body as he looked down at her. "You said it yourself, this guy is trying to tell us something, but what?"

He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He didn't have any answers for her. "This bastard is targeting you because of me." He rested a hand on her hip, needing to feel her.

She shook her head vehemently. "No John. If he wanted me dead then I'd be dead." She picked up one of the photographs. "He was here a couple nights ago, look." She showed him a shot of her standing in her livingroom window and glancing at the street. "A car alarm went off, so I looked outside to check the street. I didn't see anything, but obviously he was watching." She tossed the picture back onto the couch. "And at the park, he could have shot me. I'm telling you, he knew how to handle a weapon but he didn't kill me."

"You were lucky," he insisted, stepping away from her again. "Damn it, Natalie! This isn't a game. You have no idea what the perp will do until he does it, so stop assuming that you're in his head."

"You're the only one allowed to do that because you're FBI?"

He was furious. "Just because he hasn't killed you, doesn't mean that he's not planning too."

She was mad now too. "I'm doing my job, John. You should try it sometime."

They were interupted as uniformed bodies began to file back into the room. Bo Buchanan followed. "Davis, Colcheky, I want you two in the backyard. Take Johnson and Heedy with you. Go." They did as they were told and disappeared.

Natalie sighed. "You're wasting your time. There's nothing to find."

John picked up the photo of Nat in the window and tossed it to Bo. "We need the street canvassed. He's been here before."

Bo nodded, and sent more men out front. He walked to the couch and stared at the objects that were left for his niece. Then he turned to the two of them and saw their discomfort. "When you're done here, my office." He left and went back to the station.

Natalie watched John as he knelt again, studying everything closely. She knelt too, feeling the tension rolling off of him. "So I guess there's not much point in pretending that nothing is going on between us, huh?" She wanted to lighten the mood, but knew it wasn't going to work when he turned to her. She felt her stomach drop. The anger that was there was startling. "Okay, maybe I should have been more careful at the park, but..."

"You shouldn't have been there at all!" he barked, oblivious to all the eyes in the room. "You're supposed to be a professional so why don't you act like it?" Then he stormed out of the little house and headed for the station.

Natalie stood there for a moment, frozen in place. _What the hell just happened? _she wondered, feeling the tension in her muscles build along with her rage. She saw several eyes watching her, before they darted away when she met them with a harsh scrutiny of her own. She took a breath and glanced to the floor, noticing a dirt smudge on the skirt of the couch. She took a closer look. _Is that grease? Oil maybe? _Bending to the floor, she lifted the material and sucked in a sharp breath of air at the sight. She gestured for a nearby officer to approach, and then grabbed a glove, pulling an object out from underneath the piece of furniture.

She held it close, feeling her heartbeat pump wildly in her chest. Another scrabble piece. She looked underneath the couch again and pulled out a polaroid of John at his hotel room. He was standing in his doorway, while she stood across from him, staring. Natalie winced, feeling her stomach turn. The psycho had been there. He had been a few feet from them and they didn't know it because they were too wrapped up in each other. She tensed as she read the words scribbled in block letters at the bottom of the picture.

_YOU MADE THE WRONG CHOICE!_

She bagged the items and bolted for her car. She needed to get to the station and to John.

* * *

><p>John wasn't exactly sure how he was supposed to be behaving at the moment. He felt as though he's been sent to the principal's office, and he wasn't sent there alone. Natalie sat beside him, equally uncomfortable, waiting for the inquisition to begin. And that's what this was, an inquisition. Possibly his career execution? He turned his attention back to the three men who sat across from them, staring and waiting for some kind of explanation or confession or something?<p>

Hodges picked up the photograph of the two of them at the Domino Hotel and studied it again. He tossed it at McBain. "Well, I guess it's official? He's watching you." He turned to Natalie. "The both of you. So how can we use this?"

"Use what?" she asked.

"Your relationship." He turned back to his agent, who was staring back with murder in his eyes. "I think it's safe to say there is one, even the homicidal psychopath in town knows it."

John tossed the photo back at Hodges. "Alright, let's get this out of the way, shall we? Detective Buchanan and I are involved..." He paused, seeing her out of the corner of his eye. "...personally, but that would be none of your damn business." He shot looks at all three of them. "Any of you."

"John, calm down," Bo said, not liking how this meeting was going. "We just need to understand everything, you know that." He watched the young agent stare back and he was pissed. Bo couldn't really blame him either.

"You're being sloppy McBain." Jerry wanted this whole mess over with. "If you would keep it in your pants long enough this guy would probably be caught by now."

"That's enough!" Bo boomed, turning on his friend. "You better watch your mouth Jerry!" He wasn't going to sit here and listen to anyone insult his family, now or ever.

Hodges held up his hands, indicating that he was sorry. "Look," he started again, "I just think that McBain is crossing a line here, and that it's hurting the case."

John gripped the arm of the chair tightly. He wanted to ring Hodge's neck. "You know," he began, "maybe you're right Jerr? Maybe my attentions have been divided, but I don't think that's what's bothering you?" He could feel his body tighten as his anger took hold completely. "I think that you're pissed because even with only half my attention, I've still gotten closer to this guy than you ever could?" He watched Hodges fume.

John turned his anger on Jack Kehler, who was as silent and stoney as ever. "Are you taking my badge, because if you are then do it?"

Natalie felt out of control and she didn't like it. Everything was spiralling away from her and it had to stop. "John, shut up," she snapped. "Nobody's taking anything, right?" She looked at Kehler, who finally leaned forward.

"Right," he answered evenly. "I want to make this clear to everyone in this room." He pinned each one of them with an icy stare. "I don't want to have this conversation, or any like it again. There is a murderer out there, so let's start acting like we give a damn and catch this guy. Is that in anyway unclear?" Everyone kept quiet. "Good. Now, let's hear some theories. John, why do you think this guy is changing his pattern? Why now?"

He sat back in his chair and felt Natalie's stare, but he still wasn't going to look at her. He shrugged. "I honestly don't know? This doesn't happen. Serials don't change." He was at a loss, and could feel the tension from her, but she was wrong. She had to be wrong. Caitlyn wasn't involved with this, there was just no way. Natalie didn't know her like he did...like he had.

"Detective? Any thoughts?"

Natalie swallowed, desperately wanting to speak. To enlighten everyone with her theory, one that she is certain is correct, but she didn't speak it. "No," she said simply. Her stomach clenched and she felt her heart pump with force.

Kehler blew out a breath. "Well what about the scrabble piece?"

"It's in the lab now, but it looks like the last one we found." Bo answered the phone as it rang. "Yes, sir. We're on our way." He turned to Kehler. "We've been summoned by the Mayor," he said mockingly.

"Alright, I want an update on anything new that comes in. And I want some damn theories on this perp. Why the hell is he doing what he's doing?" Then Jack, Bo, and Jerry filed out of the office, leaving John and Natalie alone. The silence was excrutiating.

John ran his hands through his hair, still looking straight ahead. "So why didn't you tell them about your big discovery?" He was being an ass, he knew, but couldn't seem to help it.

She shifted in her seat so that she was staring directly at him. "Look at me," she ordered. He took a breath and turned. "Why do you think? Because of you, you jerk." She felt her temperature rise when he reached out and ran a knuckle over her cheek. "I'm not dropping this John. Not unless I find proof that I'm wrong. I don't think that I am." He continued to stare and she rose from her seat and left the room.

* * *

><p>Natalie stood at the coffee machine, wishing she could just take her caffeine intraveinously. It would save a lot of time. Three hours have passed since the painful meeting in her uncle's office, and since seeing John anywhere around. He was probably avoiding her. She sighed and waited for the damn pot to finish brewing. It amazed her how she always ended up refilling the stupid thing. There were maybe a dozen female officers on staff in Llanview, and over thirty men, but somehow, she still ended up making the damn coffee? She smiled for the first time in a long time.<p>

"You know, if you bought your coffee like a normal person this kind of thing wouldn't happen?"

"What kind of thing?" she asked, turning to see Jarod and Davis take a relaxed seat at a table. The lunchroom was uncharacteristically empty, but everyone was out scouring the city.

Jarod grinned. "Watching a grown woman cry because the coffee Gods have forsaken her." Davis laughed.

She turned back to the machine, which was just over half full now. "You might be on to something there?" she commented, rubbing her eyes. She was tired, and it was getting very late now. When she opened her eyes she found a steaming cup of coffee on the counter in front of her. She smiled again, breathing in the beautiful aroma of the coffee bean. "Thank you," she said, tilting her head so she could look at him.

John sat back, leaning against the counter comfortably, and stared down at her softly. "No sweat." He walked over to the table and joined the other two men in the room. She picked up the cup and followed suit. He yawned. "So have the lab results come back yet?"

Davis shook his head. "No, they're backed up." Then he glanced at his hands.

John grinned, he couldn't help it. The kid cracked him up. "Well then what the hell are you two still doing here?"

Jarod chuckled. "What about you? It looks as though you could use some sleep."

Natalie yawned too. "Sleep? What is that?" She smiled, enjoying this little moment. It was carefree, and there haven't been enough of those in her life lately. "Besides, my house is a crime scene."

"Not anymore." John said, watching her meet his eyes. "Bo gave the all clear."

"Is that where you've been?" she asked, surprised.

He continued to stare. "Well we can't have the lead detective run out of her own home. That would be like admitting defeat." She smiled. "Besides roomy, you're not going back there alone." Then he got up and went straight for the pastries beside the coffee machine.

Natalie's mouth dropped. She couldn't help it, she was shocked. "Excuse me?" She couldn't have heard right?

He was back at the counter, eating and staring and offering no explanation whatsoever.

Davis cleared his throat nervously and Jarod stood. "Yeah, well we're gonna go." They practically bolted from the room.

Natalie stared back, unwavering. "So you think you're going to move in with me?" She was annoyed, but there were also butterflies in her stomach. _Damn him! _

"I know I am," he said matter-of-factly. He licked some sugar from his lip. She frowned, and he strode forward and then knelt in front of her. "Is that really so bad?"

"Yes," she said without hesitation. He continued to stare at her, unphased. Her voice began to waver. "You're only doing it to protect me, and while most girls would probably find that flattering or whatever, I find it insulting." He placed his knees on the floor and rose, resting his hands on her thighs, still staring. "I can take care of myself McBain."

"I know that Natalie."

His voice was deep, and she felt herself melt at the sound. Air was becoming hard to come by. "I don't like being told what to do." She was staring at his mouth.

He grinned softly. "I know that too." His hands slid higher, squeezing her waist.

She licked her lips and he moved closer, tilting his mouth so that it hovered, warming her skin with his hot breath. "So did you go see Michael?" He nodded. She couldn't stop looking at his lips. "How's your mouth?"

This time he grinned widely and then kissed her.

She sighed, gliding her palm over his face and slipping it into his unruly hair. She opened for him and he deepened the kiss, causing flames to burn through her. His tongue swept her mouth and she moaned loudly, clinging tightly to him.

John pulled away from her, needing air, and panted heavily as he met her hot gaze. He grinned again. "Michael gave me this gel that freezes my wound." She chuckled, and he kissed her again, slowly standing and bringing her with him.

Natalie could taste the medicine on his wound but didn't care. She had missed his kisses. Too soon, he pulled away from her. She looked at him confused. "What?" she breathed, trying to take his lips.

He groaned at her touch and then extricated himself from her arms. "You don't make it easy on a guy." He could see she was confused. "The very public lunchroom is probably not the place for this."

"Oh, yeah, probably not?" She felt herself blush. He always made her forget where she was and what she was supposed to be doing. She finally met his gaze again. "So maybe we should go home?" She felt ridiculous! Why was she so nervous? But he walked toward her and framed her face, tilting her. She felt the familiar fire in her blood from the scorching look he was giving her.

His lip curled, arrogantly. "Maybe you're right?" He was going to kiss her, but Officer Davis came bursting into the room. They stepped apart.

The boy looked grim. "They found another girl."


	22. Chapter 22

Kismet pt. 22

Natalie felt sick. She turned away, breathing deeply, and closed her eyes from the horror. _ What he had done? That poor girl! _She could hear John issuing orders to her officers, and took another gulp of air deep into her lungs. Then she faced the crime scene, more determined than ever to do her job. Her eyes met blue ones. "John," she said quietly, standing next to him, "why did he do this?"

John was watching her closely. This was a tough one. The girl had been mutilated and tortured far worse than any of the other victims. He knew how to deal with things like this, how to detach, but Natalie wasn't like him. Her heart was big, and she was struggling to keep it together. He reached out and grabbed her cold hand for a moment, squeezing. "I can do this Natalie," he said softly, not wanting to broadcast his concern. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jarod step outside for the second time, trying to escape. He was joined by a few uniformed officers.

She shook her head and turned to him. "I'll be okay," she replied. "Tell me what we're dealing with?"

He scanned the scene again, and knelt, very conscious of the blood pool near his feet. "He's enraged. He wanted this girl to suffer."

"But they've all suffered?"

His eyes narrowed, studying the body while he spoke. "Yeah, but this is different. He wanted her to suffer because he's suffering. The others were being punished and tortured because he feels they deserved it."

Natalie watched John as he slipped into his thoughts. He was completely focussed on the scene in front of him, and on the killer's possible motive. She knelt alongside him, listening closely. "But not this girl?"

He shook his head. "No, she didn't deserve this. He lost control with her, and I'm willing to bet money it's because he feels out of control." He broke from his head long enough to look at her. "I think she's dead because of me?"

Natalie flinched. "What? What are you talking about?"

He absently reached out and ran a hand briefly over her silky hair. "I just mean that..." He paused, trying to figure out how to word his thoughts? "For whatever reason, this guy has made me part of his motivation. I think we're closer than we realize, and I think he knows it. He's always watching right? Right now he's one step ahead, but I don't think that will last."

She looked at him, curiously. "What makes you say that?"

"Just a feeling." They stared at each other. "I've been doing this a long time."

Standing, Natalie surveyed the crime scene, feeling more in control of herself. "So let's work this and get him."

He stood too, turning away from her. "Yeah, it's time."

* * *

><p>John sat on the floor and looked over his various mounds of paperwork. Natalie was at her desk and on the phone with the lab, trying to get some answers on the scrabble pieces they had found at the scene. He turned to the door when Jarod showed up. "Are those them?" he asked impatiently, gesturing the man into the room. He took the photos and began to analyze them.<p>

"Can I help with anything?" Jarod asked, not sure what to make of the chaos of the office. It has never been this disasterous.

John shook his head, and then refocussed on the photographs. The girl had been found at a dry cleaners, staked out on the floor in the back amongst all the machinery. Obviously the appeal of the location was so that no one would hear her screams. They had checked and re-checked the staff and owners, and anyone else who was connected to the business and came up with nothing. She had been cut far worse than the others. It was impossible to get an identification from her face, and even more impossible to know her age. The coroner would have to come up with something for that information. He stared at her bloody, naked body and felt a sadness that he didn't think he was capable of anymore. Her body was literally staked to the cement floor with large metal spikes used for tent pegs. There had been a sledge hammer at the scene, used to pin her securely to the ground, but there were no prints. _There was nothing damn it! _John looked up sharply, and found Jarod still standing there looking at him. "What?" he asked, annoyed.

"I want to help. What can I do?"

"You can get out. That will help tremendously." He didn't have time to be sensitive. He had a killer to find.

Jarod looked at Natalie for a moment who was just hanging up the phone. "Fine," he spat, obviously pissed. He left.

John turned to the scowl that was waiting for him. "He'll get over it."

She rose from her seat and walked to the door, closing it. "You know McBain, your people skills suck." She joined him on the floor. "He wants what we all want." She met his eyes, before taking the photos from his hands and looking at them.

"I work better alone."

She turned her attention back to him. "You're not alone. I'm right here."

He leaned forward and kissed her. "That's different."

"Why, because we're sleeping together?"

He was frowning now. "No, because you know the job and I don't have to babysit you," he stared at her, feeling a familiar burn travel through his blood, "and because I trust you."

She smiled softly. "That was really hard for you to admit, wasn't it?"

He smiled too. "You have no idea." Then he grew serious. "So what do you say we stop this guy before he kills again?"

"Sounds good to me. Any ideas on where to start?"

"From the beginning," he said simply. "Let's start with what we know about him?"

"Okay," she began, "he kills in a five mile radius. He rapes the corpses after death. He leaves scrabble pieces lodged in their throats or mouths."

John rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes. "He's started to torture the victims before death. He watches me, and now you." He opened his eyes and stared at the opposing wall. "He left a picture of Caitlyn for me to find, to mess with me no doubt?"

Natalie stared hard at the photograph in her hand, aware of the scrutiny of his gaze.

"You still think that all this has something to do with Caitlyn, don't you?" She slowly turned her head and nodded. "Well," he began, taking a breath, "then you should look into it."

"Really?" Her eyes widened in surprise. "You mean that?"

He tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. He looked intense. "I think you're wrong Natalie, but if you really can't let this go then you should go with your gut."

She felt her stomach clench, and wanted nothing more than to kiss him. "So what else do we know?" she asked, a little breathlessly.

His eyes found the wall again. "He knows about us, and has left presents. How thoughtful?"

"He's worked at a recycle depot, a garage, and an elementary school. Which means he changes jobs at every new location." She was watching him again. He visibly tensed, standing and offering his hand to her. She took it.

"So what is he doing now?" John asked, going to the map of Llanview on the wall. "It's likely that he's stationed in this vicinity somewhere right?" He was scanning the large area that they have been canvassing for days. "So what's here?"

She walked to the map and studied it closely as well. "There are several schools."

He shook his head. "No, he's already done the teacher thing."

"Maybe he's not a teacher. Maybe he's a janitor or something else?" She watched him again. "You don't think so."

He turned and leaned on the wall, meeting her eyes. "It's possible, but he's never backtracked before. It may be a new job, but the location would be the same." He shook his head slightly. "I don't know?"

"Yes you do." Their eyes connected. Natalie held her breath as he pulled her against him suddenly, and then kissed her deeply. She matched his hunger with her own, and wrapped her arms tightly around him. A knock on the door stilled their movements, as John slowly stepped back from her and wiped his mouth. She walked over and answered it. "Thank you Davis," she said, taking the coroner's report from the young officer. He nodded and walked back to the lobby of the station, while she closed her door.

John strode forward, taking the report and opening it. His facial expression was grim.

"What?" Natalie asked cautiously. She was nervous.

He blew out a quick breath in frustration. "She was violently raped before death." His eyes pinned her with an angry stare. "I don't understand, this isn't right? Serials don't change."

She licked her lips. "Maybe it's like you said? He lost control."

"Which would mean we're doing something right? If we're pushing him over the edge, then the edge is right around the corner," he walked back to the map, "but this is an industrial site and there are probably a 100 different businesses here." He ran a palm through his hair. After a few moments of silence, he turned to find Natalie staring at the pictures on the floor. Her hands were on her hips and she looked like an idea was brewing. "What?" he asked, stepping closer to her.

She lifted her gaze. "Are there any photography studios in the area?" They both darted back to the map, searching frantically.

"At least 12, maybe more." He stalked to the door. "Davis?" he shouted loudly down the corridor. The young man came around the corner sharply.

"Yes, sir?"

"I want every photography studio in the search area canvassed, and I want it done now."

"Yes, sir," he said again, turning to leave.

"Davis," John said, stopping him and meeting his wide eyes. He hesitated. "Thanks." The boy's face brightened, before he ran to do what he was ordered to do. John stood in the doorway, and watched Natalie walk up to him slowly. "What?"

"Do you see what you get when you're nice to people?"

He chuckled softly. Heat was radiating off his body. "What do I get?"

She stood on her tiptoes and brought her mouth close to his. "What do you want?"

John felt his pulse spike instantly. He closed the distance between them, slowly gliding his lips against hers seductively. She whimpered softly against him, and he pulled away, breathing much heavier. He grinned an arrogant grin. "I've got a few suggestions." She smiled too, and then a clear of the throat interupted the moment. They both turned to find Bo and Officer Davis in the hallway.

Natalie stepped away, feeling like an ass, but at the same time feeling relief. There was no longer any need to hide anything.

John looked at Davis. "What are you still doing here?" The kid looked devastated.

"I resinded your order," Bo said, watching the agent get angrier by the second. He held up his hand. "Relax, John. I resinded your order for tonight. It's 3:30 in the morning."

John looked at his watch for the first time since late afternoon. He met the Commissioner's eyes. "Oh."

Bo smiled. "Nothing's open, and we're all fried after finding the latest victim. Davis will begin the search first thing." He turned to his officer. "Right?"

"Yes, sir. First thing."

"Alright, we have a long day ahead, so I'm ordering you to get some sleep. Think you can handle that Officer Davis?" He nodded and looked at John.

"That's a good idea. I'll see you in the morning Davis." John was astounded. He could actually see the kid getting lighter.

"Good night." He looked awkwardly at Natalie and then left for the night.

Bo chuckled. "So, Agent McBain? Detective Buchanan? I expect you both to be bright-eyed tomorrow. We're going to catch this killer, because he's not smarter than the entire police department of Llanview. Is that clear?"

Natalie saluted. "Yes, sir." Bo laughed and hugged his niece. "Good night. Oh, and Natalie? There are two officers standing guard at your house, and I don't want to hear a peep about it." She was about to protest, but saw the stern look on his face. He turned and walked away, heading for home and his son.

"Unbelievable," she squeaked, pacing her tiny office. "This is ridiculous!" She stopped ranting, and turned to meet John's even stare. "What?"

He shrugged. "I just don't see what the big deal is, it's only a few hours and you'll be sleeping?"

"That's not the point John. Why aren't you under armed protection?"

"Actually, I am." Her head snapped back, surprised. "They're for my protection as well as yours. This guy is watching us, remember, and after tonight's events I think it's safe to say he's losing it. Who knows what the hell he'll do next?" She moved closer, staring up at him. "Since I'll be at your house, so will our new found security detail."

"So you still think your moving in with me, huh?"

"Yes I do."

She felt her heart beating wildly. "Fine." She grabbed her coat and moved past into the hallway. "You get the couch." Then she left.

John took a breath, feeling happier than... Well, he couldn't remember the last time he actually felt happy? He grabbed his coat and ran to catch up to her.


	23. Chapter 23

Kismet pt. 23

John watched Natalie slip through her front door while he hung back outside. He stood toe-to-toe with a very beefy officer. "Is Jackson out back?" The burly young man nodded, crossing his considerably large arms over his broad chest. John glanced at the front door again. "Did you check the house?"

"Yes," the officer replied.

He pinned him with his piercing eyes. "When?"

"It was done an hour ago, and again ten minutes before you got here." The uniform paused, licking his lips. He was twice the size of the agent, but was still nervous. "Everything checks out Agent McBain."

John moved to the door. "I want you checking in with Jackson every ten minutes, you got that? And with me, every hour."

"But the commissioner said that you were supposed to get some sleep?"

He was annoyed, and glared at the young man. "Every hour," he ordered again. The man nodded in understanding and then made a call over his radio. When Officer Jackson replied loudly over the walkie talkie, John took a breath and went inside. Nothing was going to happen to Natalie.

The inside of the house was as dark as the outside, except for the room to his left. He paused at the door long enough to see a bed and dresser, and then continued down the tiny hallway into the livingroom. So this was her house? It looked bigger from in here. He never really got a chance to observe it when it was being treated as a crime scene, but now was a different story. He flicked the light switch, and watched the ceiling fan begin to spin over the red couch. As livingroom's went it was nice. A little on the empty side, but nice. Not that he had a clue about interior design or anything? He hasn't been in one place long enough to own anything since Caitlyn. He stepped further into the room.

The walls were white, and one had a colorful painting of a garden hanging in the center. The rest were bare. To his left, a long oak table sat against the wall and held a drawing of the angel statue from the park. There was a family photograph and a battery operated radio. There was a tv in the corner and a computer desk and a whole lot of floor space. No chairs or coffee tables. No flowers. He took another breath, getting a clear glimpse of how Detective Buchanan lived. She lived for her work. He knew the signs well.

A pair of arms circled his waist from behind. "What are you thinking?"

He smiled and turned, mimicking her movements. His arms surrounded her, keeping her close. "I was thinking that you're a workaholic."

She looked up, amused. "I guess you'd know, wouldn't you?" There was a silence as they stared at each other.

"Bo said you've owned this place for awhile now." She nodded. "How come you haven't decorated?"

She pulled away from him. "Maybe I have? Maybe this is my taste?" She walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of tequila and two glasses. Then she rejoined him.

He was watching her pour the alcohol and taking a seat on the couch. "No, this isn't you. Not completely you." He sat beside her and took one of the drinks from her hand. She leaned forward and placed the bottle on the carpet, before turning her entire body so that she was facing him.

They continued to stare, taking sips and watching each other closely. The tension in the room was growing stronger with every moment of silence. It was sexual, but it was also awkward. This was dangerous ground they were treading on now.

Natalie took another small sip of the warm liquid. "Are you analyzing me McBain?" She wasn't sure where this conversation was leading, but she was willing to find out. She would take what she could from him before he disappeared from her life. _Like a dream! _she thought briefly.

"I guess I'm just worried about you?" She frowned slightly. "I wouldn't want you to end up like me." John forced a small smile. "Jaded, angry," he paused, "alone."

Natalie broke eye contact. _God, he is always so damn intense! _She grabbed the bottle and refilled their glasses. "I'm none of those things, so you don't have to worry." She saw the skepticism in his beautiful baby blues. "Really. I just tend to get busy. Too busy for home decoration." She smiled softly, feeling the weight of her chest. Her blood was burning under the warmth of his gaze. "Anyone ever tell you, you worry too much?"

John grinned. "I've heard that a few times in my life." He reached out and quickly brushed her bangs from her face. He took another drink, wanting to touch her. "You should probably get some sleep," he suggested at last.

She was staring at her hands nervously. Was he trying to get rid of her? "You need some sleep yourself. Tomorrow could be the day we catch that bastard."

He looked away, nodding, and then downed the rest of his drink. "With any luck this will finally be finished."

"Do you know where they'll send you?" she asked without thinking. This was too hard.

He met her eyes again. "No," he answered, "but there's always somewhere?"

Natalie felt her heart shatter in her chest. She knew he would leave, but to actually hear him say it? That made it real. She stared wide-eyed, as he rose from the couch and offered her his hand. Then she took it, enjoying the warmth of his strong hold against her skin.

"Go to bed," John ordered, still gripping her hand tightly. He couldn't stop staring at her.

Natalie swallowed. She wasn't sure if she had a voice at the moment. "Am I going alone?"

He grinned, blowing out a breath and tucking her hair behind her ears. "I think that's probably the only way we'll get any sleep?" She just continued to stare. "Besides, we're not exactly alone here. There's a guy outside that door, and another behind us." Neither of them moved. "Go to bed, Natalie," he said again, still looking into her big green eyes. She stood her ground, and he felt his resolve disappear like a puff of smoke. He kissed her.

Natalie grabbed onto him for dear life. If he was going to leave, then now was all they had. She felt the hunger in his kiss and the desire that swept her body like wildfire. She moaned at the feel of his tongue against her own. He was heaven. His hot mouth glided along her neck so slowly, and she opened her eyes for a moment and focussed on the center of the ceiling fan. His hands made quick work of her blouse, opening the buttons, and the cool air kissed her skin. She couldn't take it anymore. She found his mouth again, desperate for his taste.

John couldn't control himself. He always wanted her, but this was different somehow? It felt like time was running out, and he needed to stop that from happening. If only for a little while? Her fingers were tugging his hair, keeping his mouth firm against hers, forcing him to the edge of reason. She was as sweet as honey, and he burned everywhere. Pulling away, he grabbed her roughly and pressed her into the cushion of the couch. They clutched at the material, sliding their bodies along the piece of furniture. Her sounds were quickly driving him crazy. He climbed higher over her body and brought a knee up under her thigh, securing her against him. Her strong legs wrapped high around his waist, hugging him tightly. The pleasure was overwhelming and he moaned against her swollen lips.

Natalie was lost, and she knew it. It didn't matter that they needed rest and had a more pressing purpose. It didn't matter that two of her officers were mere feet from them, and that he could be gone tomorrow. None of it mattered. She slid her hands under the cool fabric of his shirt and gently raked his nipples with her fingernails. He sighed softly, kissing her with a force that would have scared her if it was anyone else. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the spectre of time, and met his kiss with a fierceness of her own.

From the floor came a crackly voice. "Agent McBain?" They stared at one another, panting for oxygen. "Agent McBain, come in? Over." John sat up and grabbed the walkie talkie from the carpet.

"McBain," he replied, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. He didn't look at Natalie, who was still lying on the cushion, breathing deeply.

A soft tap on the front door filled the tiny house. "I need a moment," the officer said into the radio.

John got off the couch and tried to adjust his pants. He was straining against the jean material after what just transpired. "I'm on my way." He was thankful that the guy didn't see fit to come in without radioing. Taking a breath, he finally glanced at Natalie, who was staring at the ceiling. Her shirt was open, revealing a tan lace bra and milky white skin. He grabbed the bottle from the floor and took a long swig, before walking down the hallway.

* * *

><p>Natalie could finally feel her breathing getting back to normal. She tentatively lowered her feet to the ground, and then sat up and stared toward the front door. He was outside, and she was slightly resentful of that fact. Her officer had interupted a heated moment, one that never should have happened, but he had called John. It was tiring having to battle the <em>boys club <em>mentality all the time, and she has worked very hard to get past that point. Running a hand through her tangled hair, she stood and quickly did up the buttons of her shirt. Her anger and pride were beginning to take control.

_How did I get here? _she wondered, not for the first time. From the moment he walked up to her in the park, she began to lose her faculties. Common sense went right out the window! She stalked over to the kitchen counter, scribbled a quick note, and left it on the seat of the couch. Then she went to her room and locked the door, more determined than ever to pull herself together. She needed to get some balance back into her life and she would start now. The only question was, could she do that? After everything? Her heart was pumping from her anger, but also from the memory of his touch. He had an effect on her like no one ever has, and it was frightening. She felt weak because all she wanted was to be around him, and to talk with him, and to feel him.

Natalie sat on her bed for a moment and closed her eyes, holding her head in her hands. He would be gone soon, and that was more real to her than anything has ever been. She needed to get some distance, but the thought made her heart ache. She loved him so much. Too much. Standing, she walked over to her dresser and grabbed some clean clothes to sleep in. First she would take a shower and try to wash his touch from her skin, then she would do her best to get a couple hours of rest. She stopped and turned to the door for a moment. She told herself that it was locked to keep him out, but she was lying. It was to keep her in. Then she slipped quietly into the bathroom.

* * *

><p>"What the hell are you doing here?" John barked, putting his hands on his hips and staring hard.<p>

"Relax, I'm heading back to AC but I have something for you." Hodges stared back, while two men came forward.

John frowned. "For me, Jerr? That's sweet, but no thanks."

"That's cute. You think you have a choice in the matter."

"Mind telling me why you think I need back up?"

Hodges took a step forward. "Look, McBain. We don't like each other and everyone knows it. Swell, but you're a good agent and that doesn't mean I want to see you or Natalie filleted by some psycho. You're forgetting that I've known her a lot longer than you. She's the niece of one of my best friends." He continued to stare. "Besides, you're finally getting your head back on track so you could use extra hands on this. Just catch this bastard." Then he walked to his car and pulled down the quiet little street, heading for Atlantic City.

After a moment, John turned to the uniform. "Head to the back with Jackson. You two can cover the rear entrance." The beefy man glanced quickly at the federal agents and then did what he was told. When they were alone, he turned his attention to the two men in front of him. "Sandler." He shook the man's hand. "What did you do to piss Jerry off? A babysitting detail?"

The agent grinned. "Well you always did need babysitting, McBain."

John shook the other man's hand. "Sam, you too huh? Well, I feel safer already."

"Ass!" the agent replied, scanning the perimeter. "So tell me McBain, are the rumors true?" He shrugged, obviously unsure. "About you sniffing around some cute detective?"

John's back stiffened. He was pissed off. "Why don't you do a perimeter check and earn those tax payer dollars?" Sam held up his hands in mock surrender and flashed him a peace sign before walking away. Sandler was watching him closely. "What?" John snapped. "Worried I hurt his feelings?"

"Worried about you man. What's the deal here?"

"The deal is do your job, that's the deal. Anything else is off limits." He glanced at the street and watched loose tree branches and pine cones blow over the pavement. "A storm's coming," he muttered aloud, and then met the man's gaze head on.

"We've worked together a long time McBain. You're not going to do something stupid like make me agree with Hodges are you?"

John stepped into the other man's face. "Stay out of it."

"Can't do that brother? I'm the one standing between you and this crazy." Sandler wasn't going to back down, not when his butt was on the line. "Is your head really in this thing, or is it on the cop?"

John chuckled. "This conversation is getting old. I'm doing my job, you worry about doing yours." They continued to stare hard at each other in silence, and then Sam rejoined them.

"Take it down a notch McBain. We're on your side, remember?" Sam watched his friend take a step back. "You need some sleep. You're not as young as you used to be."

John smiled and rubbed his eyes. "Funny." He looked back and forth between both men and grew serious again. "Keep your eyes open. Nobody is getting inside that house. You get me?" They grinned at him. "What?"

"Oh man, you've got it bad."

Sam chuckled. "The mighty McBain has finally fallen."

"Alright," John interupted, "just do me a favor and stay awake out here?"

"Go," Sandler ordered, pointing to the door. He watched John open it. "Hey McBain? You need help guarding the lady's body?" He couldn't help it. He never thought he would see the day when a woman would get to John McBain.

"You know, it would almost be worth it to let you work your so-called charm on Natalie. But I think for now, I'll just lock your perverted ass outside. Night boys." Then he went back into the house.

* * *

><p>Natalie lay motionless under her white duvet. She took a breath and prayed for her brain to shut off and let her finally sleep. So far no luck. She felt guilty. Thoughts of the latest victim should be what's occupying her mind, but that wasn't it. It was him. <em>Damn it! <em>She had heard him come back into the house a few minutes ago, and wasn't sure if she was glad that he stayed away or not? Her breath had caught in her throat when he stood outside her bedroom door, and she waited and wondered if the knob would turn. It didn't. Instead, he made his way back to the livingroom and she continued to lay here and think about him.

She rolled onto her stomach and forced her eyes to shut. Sleep would come if she could just stay still long enough to relax. Natalie punched her pillow, trying to get comfortable, and maybe release a little bit of aggression. She wanted nothing more than to get out of her bed and rejoin him on the couch, picking up where they had left off, but she was still mad too - at all of them. They were treating her like some helpless damsel in distress, and not as someone who could take very good care of herself. Which was even more infuriating because John made a much more likely target for this guy than she did. She rolled onto her back and threw an arm over her head. She tossed the duvet down to her waist, restlessly.

Listening to her own breathing, Natalie willed herself to get a much needed grip. She was acting like a junkie in need of a fix. John wasn't an addiction, he was just John. But she did have to learn to let him go, because if she didn't her heart wouldn't survive. If there was one thing she has always been, it's a survivor. She would survive him too. Then she finally felt herself begin to relax and slowly drift off.

* * *

><p>John was wide awake. He lay across the couch with his feet propped onto the arm, and stared at the damn ceiling fan. He took slow, even breaths, but thought about silky red hair tangling around his fingers. She was in her room now and that was good. It didn't feel good, not like she did when he was kissing her. <em>Pull it together McBain! <em>he chastised, shifting uncomfortably on the cushions.

"McBain? Am I interupting anything?"

Sandler's smartass voice filled the tiny room. He lifted the walkie to his mouth. "Blow it out your ass." He could hear laughter, and then the connection was broken. He yawned, trying to let his exhaustion win and take him away.

After another moment of unsuccessful rest, he rolled over and grabbed the tequila bottle from the floor. He watched the liquid swirl around the glass. There wasn't enough here to get drunk on, but it couldn't hurt things. He needed to stop thinking and took a swig from the bottle. The alcohol burned a path down his throat, warming him. He set it back down and pinned the fan with his blue eyes again. _Damn it! _he thought, frustrated. _Get out of my head!_

He yawned again, thinking about how much Natalie has become a part of his daily routine. That was bad for both of them, and it wasn't fair. He thought briefly about Caitlyn, and realized for the first time in all of this that the usual guilt wasn't there. He wasn't a monk and he wasn't a saint, and has spent many a night in the company of women, but when he left them it was easy to do. They were fun, but they weren't his Caitlyn. He always felt the stigma of adultery follow him around. It wasn't there now though. Not with Natalie.

John sat up suddenly and ran his hands through his hair, and then stared down the dark hallway. He wanted to go to her. He wanted her. They had been interupted, and he wanted to continue things with her. He wanted to make love to her and he really wanted to do that in her bedroom. Then he glanced beside the bottle and reached for the tiny square of paper that had been waiting for him. She had scribbled, _See you in the morning McBain, _and so he would respect that and let her get some sleep. That is what they were both supposed to be doing. He took his shirt off and flopped back down, trying again to relax. He took another breath, listening to the sound of the wind as it howled outside the door. Eventually, he got what he wanted and fell fast asleep.

* * *

><p>John shivered and opened his eyes. He was facing the back of the couch, but the temperature in the room was freezing. He rolled over and then sat up, blinking, trying to adjust to the light in the room. It was coming in from behind him. He turned and saw the patio doors wide open. His gut clenched and he stood and grabbed his gun, making his way toward the backyard. He could feel his heart pumping with adrenaline. Something was very wrong and he swallowed as he stepped closer. The carpet was wet from the rain that blew in, and he lifted his gun slightly. Then suddenly, he was blind. A flash of light burst into the room and he clutched his eyes, shaking his head and seeing a dark form fleeing across the lawn.<p>

"Sandler!" John boomed, before chasing after the intruder. He sprinted across the lawn and hopped the fence, catching a clear view of a man dressed head to toe in black. There was no way the son of a bitch was going to get away! He followed him across another yard, and then out into the street, sticking with him as best he could. The guy was fast. He felt his lungs burn, but still he pushed on. The bastard had been in her home twice. Tonight would be the last time.

A car alarm went off as the killer's hand slammed down onto the hood of a Lexus, and then he was hopping fences again. John followed, vaguely aware that he was in his socks and had no shirt on. The rain and wind seemed to be working against him, blowing in his face, but he was getting closer. The man deeked into a tiny alley, and then down another one. When John turned the corner, he ran smack into a chain link fence.

"What the...?" He spun around frantically. Where the hell did he go? He searched for a door or a grate or anything, but there was nothing. It was as though he vanished into thin air. "Aaaaaahhhh!" he screamed into the air. _Son of a bitch! _He lost him, and now the guy could kill again. Then his heart stopped completely. _Natalie! _How long had he been in the house? Was he in her room? John was already running, more afraid than he ever remembered being. _God, if anything happened to her?_

His lungs were burning, but he hopped the last fence and ran back through the open doors to find everyone inside. His heart began to beat again. She was safe. He went right to her and hugged her tightly, not caring what anyone thought about it. "Are you alright?" he asked, running his hands over her hair and face, needing to touch her and feel that she was okay.

"Me? Are you?" She wanted to let herself cry at the glorious sight of him, but she wouldn't. Then she felt the fury hit her, and she slapped him. "You ass! You could've been killed?" She was scared. The psycho had gotten in and could have killed John while he slept on her couch. Why did she make him sleep on the damn couch?

John froze, trying like hell to keep his anger in check, but he looked at her, really looked at her, and saw the blatant fear in her big eyes. She was terrified. He licked his lips and placed a strong hand behind her head, pulling her against his chest. She let him, and held fast, breathing deeply. Her breath warmed his cold, wet skin. He looked at his colleagues and they stepped into the kitchen, giving them a brief moment of privacy. "Look at me Natalie," he breathed, lifting her chin with his finger. Her eyes were like glass. "It's okay. We're okay."

She stepped back, but still clutched his hand. "Damn it John, he could have killed you." He nodded, knowing she was right. She frowned. "Why didn't he?"

"My guess is he's not done with me yet, with us, but we're gonna get him. He was here because he couldn't stay away, and that's exactly why he's going to get caught." He watched her relax slightly, and scanned her quickly. "Why don't you go put some clothes on detective?" he said at last, noting how stunning she was in a faded Aerosmith shirt and skimpy cotton shorts.

Natalie chuckled, hugging him one more time. She slid her fingers into his wet hair, and held him against her. Then she walked to her room and shut the door.

John turned and grabbed the dish towel that Sam tossed his way. "What the hell happened?" he demanded, furious beyond reason. "How the hell did that son of a bitch get in here?"

Sandler shrugged. "We don't know John?"

He glanced at the two uniformed officers coldly. "I'm in the mood to shoot someone, so somebody better explain to me what happened?" John stared from man to man, waiting. He wiped himself off with the tiny cloth.

Jackson stepped forward. "We didn't leave our post. I don't know how the guy got so close?"

"You don't know?" John repeated slowly. "He was standing four feet from me on the damn porch. How could two trained police professionals like yourselves, not notice a grown man dressed completely in black? That didn't seem out of place to you?" He wanted to punch every damn one of them.

"We didn't see anything? The guy must have come from the side of the house or something? I don't know?" Jackson was obviously upset.

John felt like he was going to lose it. First the guy gets into the house with four armed men outside, and then he disappears in an alley without a trace. He ran a frustrated hand over his face, trying to calm down and think rationally about everything. He sat on the couch and peeled his soaked socks from his feet.

Natalie rejoined the group in jeans and a sweater. She threw a pair of khakis at McBain, before standing beside him, needing to be close. He looked at her confused. "There Chris's," she answered, watching him sneer at her like she was crazy. She grabbed his hand and the pants. "Just shut up and wear them. Your bag is at the hotel and you're soaking wet."

They continued to stare at one another. Finally John stood and undid his jeans, sliding them off. "Alright," he began, "I want people out there finding out how the bastard got near the house, and I want a unit in the alley on Fletcher. That's where I lost him. Oh, and there's a silver Lexus on sixth that may have a print on the hood." He pulled his shirt on and did the button on the khakis up. He stared from man to man again. "Now damn it!" he shouted, watching the men make calls and get to work. He turned to Natalie and breathed deeply, running the back of his hand over her soft cheek. She smiled and he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. "That was close," he said softly against her ear.

"Too close," she replied, closing her eyes. She couldn't let him go, so she didn't. She just stood there, clinging to him with all her strength.


	24. Chapter 24

Kismet pt. 24

Natalie could smell bacon. She rolled over in her bed, and quickly looked at her watch. _Oh my God! _ It was 11:35am and she was in bed. She sat up and pulled on her jeans, before peaking into her little hallway. There was no sign of anyone, and she continued on, wanting to see John. She would have to wait though, because it was Sandler who was making himself at home in her kitchen. He turned and looked at her.

"Good morning."

She smiled awkwardly. "Yeah." She watched him put the frying pan on the stove and offer his hand. She shook it.

"So, we never actually got to meet last night. Or rather, be introduced. Mike Sandler."

"Natalie Buchanan." She crossed her arms over her chest and hugged herself. "Where's John?" He went back to putting bacon and eggs onto two plates.

"Who the hell knows," he joked, turning to look at her again, "but I guarantee you he's out pissing people off and ordering them around."

She just watched him, trying to figure him out. "I guess I fell asleep." She felt like an idiot. How could she fall asleep?

"Yeah." Sandler walked to a small wooden table that seated two, and put the plates down. Then he was in the fridge and pouring orange juice. "McBain said to let you rest, so here we are."

"I woke up in my bed."

He snickered. "Well, you'll have to talk to John about that." He pinned her with an inquisitive look. "Toast?" he asked, buttering bread.

She nodded. "The last thing I remember is going into my room to change and flopping on my bed for a moment." She was getting slightly more comfortable now. "So are you my personal watch dog?"

He laughed. "I think that job's been filled, don't you?" She frowned, and took the orange juice he was handing her. Then he sat at the table. "Come on, it's getting cold."

Natalie sat down and began to eat the breakfast. Truth be told, she was starving. She couldn't even remember the last time she ate. Her eyes kept darting up to find Sandler watching her in silence while he ate. Finally, she put the last couple bites of her toast down and stared directly at him. "What?" He stopped eating and stared at her. "You obviously have something to say to me, so say it."

"You're in love with him, aren't you?"

Her stomach dropped. That was not what she was expecting. She thought he would give her a hard time like Hodges and Kehler. She didn't say anything. Instead she drank her juice and continued to watch him over the glass.

Sandler leaned on the table. After another moment, he grinned softly. "I guess there really is no accounting for taste?" She relaxed, but only slightly. "He will leave, you know? He won't ever stop. His guilt won't let him."

Natalie licked her lips. "I know that." She could see that he wasn't so sure of her answer. "I know that," she said again, eating the rest of her toast.

"So does having to hunt down a homicidal maniac warrant me being excused from dish duty?" He cleared the table and loaded up the sink.

She smiled. "I think it just might?"

"So let's get going then. We're burning daylight, right?"

She slipped her shoes on and followed him to his car. "We need to make a stop," she said, as she hopped into the passenger seat. "It's on the way."

"Well, I never could say no to a beautiful redhead." Then he drove away from the house and headed for the station.

* * *

><p>Natalie stood at the front door of the diner, feeling more uncomfortable than she ever remembered being in her life. She turned and found Carlotta pinning her with an icy stare, and sighed. Now she had another reason to feel out of place. It was weird. The diner was a hangout for her, even before her and Chris started seeing each other.<p>

"You're not welcome here anymore," the woman's voice interupted her reverie. "Just leave Natalie."

"I'm not going to do that Carlotta. I need to talk to Christian."

"You need. Well, that's really what you're about, isn't it?"

Natalie knew she deserved this anger, but after the night she just had, she wasn't about to sit around and take it. Not today. "Is he here Carlotta?"

"I'm here," he answered from the kitchen doorway.

She turned to look at him and felt overwhelmed by the emotion staring back at her. He was angry, but he was also hurt. Chris never could hide his feelings, that's what makes him such a great artist. Her throat felt dry. "I'd like to talk with you Chris, if you'll sit with me?" He walked into the room and gestured for her to take a seat at one of the back booths.

"But Miho...?" Carlotta began.

Chris held up his hand. "I want to talk to her. Give us a minute?" She held her protective ground. "Please?" he asked, but it wasn't a question, not really, so she slipped into the back and left them alone to talk.

Natalie watched him sitting across from her, and didn't know where to start? What to say? "I'm sorry I hurt you."

"Are you?" He was angry. Seeing her now, brought back all his anger. She had slept with McBain and now she was apologizing for it, but that didn't seem to matter. She wasn't really sorry. He knew she never wanted to hurt him, but he also knew that she was still sleeping with McBain. She wanted McBain, and he didn't know what to do with that?

"Yes, of course I'm sorry. I think you know that's true Christian. I know you're mad, and you have every right to be, but..."

"Natalie just shut up!" She did. "I get why you came here today, but we don't need to do this."

"Do what?" She didn't know what the hell he was talking about?

"This I'm sorry, it was fun, I didn't mean to hurt you but we should both move on, thing."

Natalie sat back stiffly. She was dumbfounded. "Christian..."

He took a breath and looked her square in the eye. "I wish you well Natalie, I do. I really want happiness for you, but I can't sit here and pretend that everything is okay with us." Her eyes were wide and shimmery and he felt his heart aching for her. He loved her, but she didn't love him. It was all a lie. She loved McBain. "Maybe someday it will be again, I don't know? We were pretty good friends once."

"We are friends Chris."

He shook his head, not ready to be there just yet. "No," he said simply. The pain in her eyes was like a knife in his heart. "Do you know what I see when I look at you? What I remember?" She shook her head, carefully holding her tears back, and he knew she wouldn't cry, not for him. "I remember telling you that I loved you, and I remember you telling me that you slept with McBain." His voice sounded raw.

She sat there silently for a moment, and then stood from her seat. "I am sorry Christian. You deserve the world. Please believe that?" Then she walked out of the diner and headed to the station where she was needed.

* * *

><p>"Alright, thank you," Natalie said, hanging up the phone. She sat at her desk and stared at the filing cabinet. It was nearly four in the afternoon, and the station was all but deserted. Everyone was out in the field, following up on the photography studio lead as well as everything that went down last night. John had gotten close to the guy, so she knew he wasn't going to quit anytime soon.<p>

"Detective?" Officer Davis stepped into the office. "This package arrived for you." He handed it to her and then went back to work.

Natalie held it for a minute. It was from Brown University. She quickly tore it open and spread the documents on her desk. She had been waiting for this to get here. Everything you wanted to know about Caitlyn Fitzgerald while she had attended the school. She stared at a photo, envious even now of a dead woman. A woman who John had loved.

The documents weren't telling her anything. Caitlyn had been a slightly above average student. She maintained decent grades and she was definitely social. She joined the sailing club, the swim team, the debate team. She was in a sorority and the captain of the girls varsity volleyball team. Natalie frowned. _Was there anything you didn't do? _she thought, refocussing. Nothing was jumping out.

Natalie thought that the answer would be here somewhere? Why did the guy leave that particular photo for them to find? A photo of her before she met and loved John McBain. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. There was a knock on the door.

"Am I interupting?" Sandler asked, taking the liberty of joining her. He sat at the desk and stared.

"What?"

He shrugged. "I just wanted to make sure you were eating. You know, lunch and what not?" She smiled. "Actually, McBain has been a pain in the ass and I needed a break from him. You're much easier to take."

"So I assume the search is ongoing?"

He nodded. "What's all this?" he asked, grabbing some papers from the desk and reading them.

Natalie shook her head. "Are all FBI agents a pain in the ass?" He chuckled and continued to read. Then he raised his eyes. "He knows I'm looking into this."

"So have you found anything, other than her being in the scrabble club?"

Natalie's head shot up. "What did you just say?" She snatched the papers out of his hand.

"What? That she played scrabble?"

"Who played scrabble?" John asked from the doorway.


	25. Chapter 25

Kismet pt. 25

Natalie stood from her chair and stared nervously at John. Her eyes went to Sandler, and then back to John again.

"I know that look," he said, entering the room. "What's going on Natalie?" She licked her lips and looked at the desk. "What?" he snapped, feeling his own nerves now. She was acting squirrelly.

She couldn't find the right words, or any words, so she handed him the piece of paper. It felt like an eternity before he finally looked her way again. Her breath was shallow. She could see his pain, but there was something different too. She could see acceptance. Without a word, he approached her and they began to go through every single sheet of paper she had managed to dig up on Caitlyn.

Mike watched with quiet fascination. He had expected a blowout of epic proportion from his friend, but instead he had surprised him. Instead, he was dealing with everything and doing his job. Then he joined in, more determined than ever to catch this lunatic.

* * *

><p>Hours passed, and there were sheets of paper all over the office. On the desk and the floor, tacked to the wall. Natalie ran a hand through her hair and then reached up a hand. John took it, pulling her from the floor. He looked at her a little longer than necessary, and then she picked up the coffee mug from her desk. It was empty. She picked up the phone and ordered more coffee for the three of them. She hung up the receiver, only to have it ring loudly. "Buchanan," she answered, anxiously. "We've been waiting for an hour and a half..."<p>

John strode forward and grabbed the phone from her. "You have faxes in Providence? Then get off your ass and send us what we need! I don't want to hear it lady! This is a homicide investigation, do you get that? Good!" He slammed the phone down. "Idiot!" he shouted, taking a familiar seat on the desk.

Natalie walked up to him and stared. He took her hand and a needed deep breath. Her fingers ran over his hair. He got up and went back to the map. Bo had called in 30 minutes ago. No luck on the photography front. _But that had to be it? Bo had to be wrong! _The bastard had blinded him with a flashbulb last night. He was leaving photos everywhere. They were still missing something?

"Listen," Mike said, getting off the floor, "I'm getting damn hungry. We're going to be here awhile yet. Any requests?"

"Steak and lobster sounds good." John met his friend's eyes. "What?"

"You're right, it does sound good but we're having chinese." Then he left the room.

John turned to Natalie. "What are you grinning at?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, I guess I like him?"

"Really."

She felt those butterflies in her stomach again and walked up to him. "Uh-huh." The heat in his eyes was radiating through her skin, burning her deep inside.

John lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. He's wanted to do that since last night, and pulled her flush against his hard body. "We need to figure this out," he said against her lips.

She nodded, feeling breathless. "Maybe we could think of this as a break?" Then he was kissing her again, and she melted against him. He thrust his tongue into her waiting mouth, and turned her slightly. Natalie felt her desire quadruple when her back pressed against the wall. She vividly remembered the last time he had her pressed against this wall. He held himself over her, grinning.

"You're an arrogant ass, you know that?" she said, lost in his eyes.

He chuckled and stepped back. "Breaks over," he said, keeping a clear distance from her.

"Chicken," she teased, enjoying the spark in his eyes.

"Did someone say chicken, because I could really go for that about now?" Sam walked into the room.

Natalie laughed, she couldn't help it. "Do you guys think of anything besides food?" She felt John's stare, and blushed at her own comment. Luckily, an officer chose that well-timed moment to bring the coffee that she had ordered.

"Is this for me?" Sam asked, taking Sandler's coffee.

John just looked at him. "Yes," he answered, grinning at Natalie and then staring at the map.

She could feel the change in him. The break really was over now. He was studying that map like he expected the answer to their particular puzzle to miraculously appear. Sandler came in with the food. "That was fast."

"It's easy when the chinese food place is next to the station." He handed out cardboard boxes of noodles and then looked at Natalie drinking her coffee. He saw Sam with a cup and glared. "Bastard." His friend laughed. Then he looked at John, who was looking at the map. "I can hear your wheels turning buddy."

John turned slightly, acknowledging that he heard him, but kept his eyes on the wall. His wheels were definitely turning.

Davis knocked quietly, feeling very nervous as the detective and the two agents stared his way. No one spoke to him. "That fax you've been waiting for came." Natalie ran to the door and grabbed the sheet from the young officer.

John was right there, looking at the photo with her. It was a picture of the scrabble club, but there was someone missing. "Sandler, run the name Mark Moses through the Quantico database. I want to know everything about this guy." The agent disappeared, already on his phone on the way out the door. John made his way back to the wall.

"What?" Natalie asked, watching him closely. He was definitely thinking something specific. "What are you thinking McBain?"

He looked at her for a second before turning toward his colleague. "Are you sure that the photography studios were a dead end?"

Sam handed him a long list of businesses. "I'm sure. The Commissioner and I went over everything three times. They're clean man." John read through the list carefully, and then turned his back on him and stared at the wall again.

Natalie moved beside him, trying to see what he was seeing? "Just say it John."

He looked at her and his eyes were intense. She was suddenly very nervous. "There's one place we haven't checked."

She looked at the map again. They had canvassed every business in the search grid and came up with nothing, every business but one. Right smack in the center of everything was the police station. She shook her head quickly and met his gaze. "No."

"Has anyone seen Jarod today?" John asked, continuing to stare at Natalie's disbelieving face.


	26. Chapter 26

Okay, one more for tonight. :)

* * *

><p>Kismet pt. 26<p>

"You can't be serious McBain?" Sam stared at his friend. He was angry. This was crossing a line, even for John.

Natalie swallowed. He was very serious. He was staring at her and she could see it as clear as day. "Will you excuse us, Sam?" The agent looked at her. "Now." She wasn't asking. He sighed and left the room, closing the door behind him. She slowly turned back to John. "Do you know what you're saying?"

"I know." His voice was hard and crisp. There was no floundering in his tone. He placed a hand in her hair.

He was waiting for something from her, but she didn't know what it was? She just knew it wasn't Jarod. "John?" She said his name quietly, still staring deeply into his blue eyes.

"I'm asking you to trust me, Natalie."

She stepped back from his touch. "No, you're asking me to believe that a very good friend of mine is insane."

He stiffened. "Just like you were asking me to believe that Caitlyn was involved in this mess. Well you were right and I was wrong, because I wouldn't let myself see what was staring me in the face." She walked to her desk and sat down. "Think about how it looks Natalie. How everything makes sense?" He moved across the room and knelt in front of her, trying to make her see that this wasn't meant to hurt her. He couldn't back away from this for her own safety. "He's a forensic photographer. It explains why the killer never left trace evidence behind. He knew how to keep the scene clean. The guy's been taunting us with photographs. He's been so close, but we never saw anything. That's because he belonged there. We would never question Jarod." He was pushing harder now. She had to hear it. He stared into her skeptical eyes. "He travels a lot, to other precincts and to conventions and courses." She stood suddenly and walked away from him, putting the desk between them. He stood too. "He's educated. My money is on Brown University."

"Stop it!" Natalie snapped, feeling sick to her stomach.

"He knew what we were doing every step of the way because he was part of the investigation. That's how he stayed one step ahead of us."

"I said stop, damn it! You're wrong! I've known him for years John."

He took another breath. "He was alone at your house the other night, while you were with me at the hotel." She was pissed! He could see the anger and feel her wrath across the tiny room. "He had plenty of time to learn his way around your place, your yard, your neighborhood." She shook her head, and he came around to her and grabbed her arms roughly. "He took a picture of us outside the hotel, remember? He was probably outside while he was talking to you. He knew exactly where you were."

Natalie shrugged out of his tight grip. Then she threw the door open and stormed out.

"Natalie..." He started to go after her, but Sam stopped him in his tracks.

"You should probably leave it alone McBain."

John turned to Sandler, who nodded and bolted out of the building. "I want Jarod brought in now and not as an employee, you got that?"

Sam stared hard. "This is wrong. He's a cop John."

"I know _exactly_ who he is, Sam. Just do it." Then John walked down the hall to Bo's office. He was not looking forward to rehashing the conversation again.

* * *

><p>Bo was silent for a long time. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Then he looked at the agent across from him. "I hope you're wrong John," he said at last.<p>

John was surprised. "That's it. No, you're crazy or just plain wrong?"

Bo sat back into his chair. "I heard everything you said. It warrants investigation." John just stared in dumbfounded silence. "Listen," Bo began evenly, "I've been in this job a long time. Sometimes, people aren't who you think they are, and sometimes," he paused and met the young man's eyes, "they're better than you first thought." John sat down, feeling overwhelming relief. "Am I correct in assuming that you shared your theory with my niece?"

He nodded slowly, feeling the tension creep back into his bones. "She's pissed."

"I have no doubt."

John ran a hand through his hair. "I had to tell her. If I'm right, then...?"

"I know," Bo interupted. "I get it and she will too...when she calms down. I don't know if you've noticed, but she has a temper."

John actually grinned. He didn't think anything could make him do that right now. "No kidding?"

Bo stood from his chair. "Agent McBain, you do what you have to do to catch this guy." He paused again. "No matter who it is."

John shook his hand. "Yes, sir. Count on it." He turned to leave.

"John?" Bo met the young man's stare. "I'll call Hodges. I think you were right about one thing."

"What's that?"

Bo sat back down and picked up the phone. "There's a storm coming." John nodded, and left the office.

* * *

><p>Natalie didn't say anything when Sandler walked up and took a seat beside her. She just stared straight ahead, trying not to think. It wasn't working.<p>

"Nice statue," he said at last, breaking the silence.

"My boyfriend made it," she said, wincing. She felt his eyes on her. "Ex-boyfriend."

"Huh? He's good."

She shrugged. "Yeah." This was ridiculous! "He's an ass!"

Sandler laughed. "You're just figuring that out now? I thought you were one of the smart ones?" She finally looked at him. "He is definitely an ass," he said again, "but he's never wrong. Not about these kinds of things."

She sighed and looked away again. "You saw pictures of the girls?" She didn't see it, but could feel him nodding. "You tell me how I'm supposed to believe that a good friend of mine is capable of doing that?"

"I can't do that Natalie. I thankfully have never had the pleasure, but I can tell you he would never say those things unless he really believed it. I've seen John around you. He's different."

She tensed slightly, keeping her eyes averted. "Different how?"

He smiled softly. "He's human for one thing." She turned around again. "I saw the look on his face when he came charging into your house last night. When he thought something happened to you?"

"Yeah, I saw it too."

"So why are we here? We need to do whatever we have to in order to stop this guy from killing another girl. I know you know that." She nodded. "Let's go." They both stood and walked back to the station.

* * *

><p>John was pacing. They were so close now. He could practically taste victory, but Natalie was missing in action and it made him nervous. They still haven't found Jarod anywhere. Maybe he pulled up stakes and left for a new venue? It made sense. He could have realized how close he had come to being caught last night, but he had also showed up in the first place, which was ballsy. He was addicted to the rush, to the danger. He was pushing his boundaries now, just like Haver had done when John pushed him past his comfort zone. <em>Where the hell was Natalie?<em>

He turned suddenly and stared into wide green eyes. "Hey," he said softly, not sure which Natalie he was dealing with. Was she still angry?

She walked into the room. "I've been thinking about motive," she said, avoiding anything other than the case.

"And?"

"Well, if he is this missing scrabble player...?"

"He is," Sam said, joining the group. "That was Quantico. There is no record of a Mark Moses ever having attended Brown University."

"What?" she replied. "None at all?"

He shook his head. "Oh, it get's better. There is no record of a Mark Moses being born in the United States, in any state, or for that matter, having died. It's an alias folks."

John walked closer. "Employment? Social Insurance Number? Taxes?"

"Nothing," Sam answered. He looked at Natalie. "I'm sorry, but your friend doesn't exist either."

"What?" Natalie stepped back sharply. "What are you talking about?"

Sam looked grave. "I took the liberty of running Jarod's name as well. It's an alias. The only record we have of him, is from the Llanview Police Department."

"How? How could we not have known?"

"It's not your fault Natalie," John said, taking a step closer. She stepped back and he frowned. "You couldn't have known. He knew what he was doing. Look how long it took us to figure things out?"

She met his stare with a cold one of her own. "Tell that to the families of those girls."

He wasn't going to let her do this. She wasn't going to shut down the way he did. "Detective Buchanan, you said something about motive?" She looked at him like he was crazy. "What about motive?" He would push her until she hated him if it meant that she would be okay. "Are you a detective or not?" he snapped, watching the rage flash across her face.

"When he killed, he did it so randomly - different sizes, nationalities, colors. Why? There were no connections between the victims. I think there was a connection."

"What?" Sandler asked, moving closer. He sat on the desk beside her.

"I think Caitlyn was the connection."

John blinked. "Okay, you lost me."

"Victim number one looked like her, right? None of the others did, but they had other connections to her."

John's eyes widened, finally understanding what she was getting at. "One girl was a psyche major, and another was in the sailing club, and so on."

"Damn! This guy's a whacko," Sam said, answering his phone. "It's Hodges." He left the room.

John was watching Natalie. She was slipping into her guilt again. "That's pretty good for a small town cop." The look she shot him was death personified. He actually felt his blood run cold, but he wasn't going to back down. He continued to stare. "You think he was in love with her, don't you?"

"Don't you?" Natalie was more angry than she ever remembered being. How could any of this be happening? "I mean the woman was lovable, right?"

John was growing angry himself. She was making this argument personal. That was fine, he could use that. "Yes, she was." He saw her eyes flash before she stormed out of the room. He took a breath and lowered his head. Then he closed his eyes for a second. "She's right, you know?"

Sandler sat silently on the desk. "I know. She's good at her job. So are you."

John knew that his friend was aware of his tactics. "Either they had a relationship and she rejected him, or she never knew about his feelings for her." Sandler nodded. "But it doesn't really matter does it?"

"No."

Natalie came back into the room. "I'm going home. Call if you catch Jarod."

"Whoa!" John had her by the arm so fast, she barely registered that he moved at all. "You are not going back there by yourself with this guy on the loose."

She pulled from him. "Don't order me around like one of your minions McBain!" She turned to Sandler. "So, are you coming or not?" She swung her eyes back to John. "Looks like that watch dog position just opened up." Then she was gone.

John swore under his breath. His friend walked up to him. "Go," he ordered, not bothering to hide his annoyance. "Don't let her out of your sight."

"What if she goes to bed? What if she showers?" John stared hard at his friend. "Easy buddy, I'm just trying to cut some of the tension."

"She won't wait for you. Move your ass." Sandler laughed while running out the door.

John stared into the hallway for a moment. _Damn it Natalie! _He grabbed his coat, needing to be out there looking.


	27. Chapter 27

This update is for Margie, because I have been absent and so I'm making up for it with a sex marathon. LOL LOL

This chapter is another high M rating, y'all!

ps-It's also long. Get comfy. :)

* * *

><p>Kismet pt. 27<p>

Natalie stepped into her house and felt strange. It was a surreal feeling, like she was watching her own life on television or something? Jarod was a lunatic. He was a lunatic who had broken into her house a couple different times now. Mike's hand on her shoulder made her jump.

"Sorry," he said quickly.

She smiled and walked into her livingroom. "I almost feel like this place isn't really mine anymore."

He looked at her for a minute and then sat on the couch. "It is yours. He can't change that, no matter how you feel right now."

"You sound like a fortune cookie."

He laughed. "See? Your sense of humor is still intact. You're going to be alright, detective." He looked at her again. "Besides, there must be something good that you remember about this place?"

Natalie looked away, feeling herself begin to blush. "Maybe something?" she mumbled, remembering being with John on the couch. The same couch that Sandler was currently parked on. "So? Food? Drink? Both?"

He smiled. "Definitely both. Can't have one without the other, right?"

She walked into the kitchen and checked out the fridge. There wasn't much to work with, so she heated the stew that she had made and warmed some buns. Then she made coffee.

"Can I help?" he asked, joining her. She shook her head. "So are you still pissed at Johnny?"

She sighed, feeling the tension roll right back into place. "You should probably stay out of it." It wasn't a suggestion, and she could tell that he knew it.

"One of the first things you need to realize about me, is I stick my nose in things when it effects me." She looked at him confused. "You effect John. John effects me. It's that simple."

The microwave beeped and Natalie grabbed the bowls out with her bare hands. "Ow!" she cried, burning her fingers. She watched Sandler run the tap and then look at her. She stuck her hand under the cold water. "You're almost as big a pain in the ass as McBain, you know that?"

"That's impossible."

"I wouldn't say that," John replied from the hallway.

Natalie stiffened. She was furious all over again. _Damn him! _"How the hell did you get in here?" She spun on him, her hands on her hips. "Did you pick the lock?"

John tossed a key onto her countertop. "Bo lent me his spare key. I figured you wouldn't be inviting me in tonight."

Her eyes narrowed. "Good guess. Now get out!" He didn't. "Fine, stay." She brushed past him brusquely and slammed her bedroom door behind her.

John bit his lower lip and turned to his friend.

"Stew?" Mike asked, handing him one of the bowls with a potholder. He grabbed the other one and walked to the couch. "You've got your work cut out for you, McBain."

John sat. "Tell me about it?" They both ate in silence, each stealing glances down the dark hallway.

After a few more minutes, Sandler turned to look at his friend. "You're not going to get anywhere with me, so why not take your chances with the redhead?"

He wanted to hit him, but rose and walked to the end of the hall. He had expected the door to be locked, but it wasn't. He opened it and looked in at her, leaning his shoulder against the frame. She stared, not saying anything. She was sitting on her duvet, dressed in the same outfit as the other night, and he felt his heartbeat in his throat. She was so damn beautiful. "Can I come in?"

"Shut the door," she snapped. "I don't think we need to advertise everything, do you?" She was still abundantly pissed off! He had accused her friend of horrible acts, and then instead of letting her get her head around it, he pushed. He pushed so hard that she thought she might actually break, and to add insult to injury, he acted like a complete jackass at the station. He treated her like an incompetent twit. She watched him push away from the wall and do as she asked. The lock clicked in place. The second the sound hit her ears she was off the bed and confronting him. "You son of a bitch! How could you treat me like that today? Like I didn't even matter? Like I was some halfwit or something?" He just stood there, not speaking. "Say something?"

"Say what exactly? You're so mad right now that I could say anything and you wouldn't believe it."

"Try me John." She stared up at him wide-eyed, waiting for whatever would make this day better.

He began to breathe heavily, struggling for air in his tight lungs. He reached out, but she moved back.

"Don't. Don't do that. I want..." She stopped talking.

He looked at her and moved forward, closing the small gap that she had just created between them. "You want what?" He couldn't help but want to be closer to her, to touch her. She didn't say anything, but she didn't move either. He watched her chest begin to rise.

"I want this to be over," she squeaked out at last, staring deeply into his blue eyes. "I want to know why you would treat me like I was some stranger, and I want to know how a man I thought was my friend could be a horrible monster, but mostly," she stopped for a moment to wipe a single tear that escaped and slid over her cheek, "I want to know how I could let Jarod into my life and not see who he really was? What he did to those girls, John?" She finally broke. It was all too much. She couldn't stop the tears anymore and they fell smoothly over her skin like a flood.

John watched her slowly crumble, but he let her fall. She needed to let it out or she would go crazy. She would go so far inside herself that nothing and no one would be able to touch her. He knew, because that was how he spent his life since Caitlyn's murder. He stared at her, and finally breathed when she put her head over his heart and wrapped her arms around him. He felt her sobs and waited patiently for them to slow, and then stop. He kissed the top of her head and she pulled away from him. Her ire was back.

"So are you going to answer me?" she asked, feeling her strength coming back. "You were a prick today." He smiled. "It's not funny, John."

He shook his head. "No, it's not. I'm just glad to see you."

She was confused again. "You're avoiding the question."

He disagreed. "No." His voice was deeper now. He didn't want to talk anymore. He stared down at her, and then focussed on her mouth. Her lips parted slightly. "Conversation is overrated Natalie." He saw the heat in her gaze, and he felt it. Her body was begging to be touched.

Natalie was having a hard time staying mad. He was so close and she missed him, no matter how angry she was with him. She could feel the change in him. He wanted her, and was going to have her. "Is sex your answer for everything?" she blurted, desperate to keep him at bay. It worked. He stepped away.

"That's not fair." He was mad now too.

"None of this is fair John. None of it."

He continued to look at her, not ready to give up yet. "We know who the guy is now Natalie." He saw her face change as she realized for the first time what he was really saying to her? What that meant? "We should have him in custody soon."

She glanced at the shag carpet. Her heart was aching. It was going to break. Their time was almost up. She took a deep breath, and another, then she found his beautiful face and stepped closer. "So we shouldn't waste anymore time, should we?"

He bent to her mouth, stopping just over her lips. "No more talking," he said, before kissing her. Her fingers slid into his hair as his tongue slid into her mouth. She stood on her toes, rising against him. He held her and met her sweet kisses with ardor. She tasted so good. Slowly, he walked them to the foot of her bed, and then he pulled away long enough to look at her. She was clinging to him, panting and wanting more. He stared and felt his desire surge through his entire body, taking control.

She opened her eyes and saw what he wanted and needed from her. She would give it to him. Natalie swallowed, and kept her eyes trained on his perfect blue ones. She slowly lifted her shirt over her head, and stood before him in nothing but her cotton shorts. She couldn't breathe. His desire was going to consume her, but still he waited, watching her with a desperation that astounded her. She pushed her shorts and her underwear down until she was completely nude. He was rock hard with tension. Then she helped him lift his shirt from his body, and placed a single kiss over his heart. His hands slid gently over her hair, and hers made their way to the front of his jeans to undo the button. He took over from there and lowered his zipper, removing his clothing. When they were both naked, Natalie smiled and rose against him again. She waited for his kiss, but she didn't have to wait long.

John felt the exact moment his control snapped. He felt her hot breath on his lips and her hard nipples against his chest and he lost it. He took her mouth firmly and deliberately, needing her so completely. His groan filled the room as he pushed his tongue into her mouth with purpose, again and again. Tasting her over and over. She tugged his hair and he groaned louder, dying as her soft stomach rubbed against his erection. He met her eyes and slowly pushed her back onto the bed, unable to look anywhere but at her. She was everything, and he would prove that to her. John took her mouth slowly, molding her pliant lips, and she sighed, following his lead. They crawled backward, climbing the mattress, and he kept close contact with her. She ran a hand over his cheek and his chest, following each touch with her eyes. She reached lower, circling his penis with her warm fingers. He closed his eyes and felt his heart slam against his chest, trying to escape. When he looked at her, she was licking her red lips, and he died a little more inside. Then he put his mouth on her, needing more.

Natalie sighed, so thankful when his lips returned to hers. She was going crazy. His penis was hot and pulsing, burning her, and she continued to stroke him. His kisses were consuming. They were deep and slow and painfully erotic. His hands found her breasts, squeezing them gently and then not-so gently. In fact, his touch was becoming increasingly more rough. She broke away and cried out softly, rocking her hips high against his body. He grabbed her hair and ravaged her mouth anew. Their momentum was changing. He slipped an arm underneath her waist and tugged her farther up the mattress, until her head was lying on her pillow. Natalie blinked and opened her mouth when his tongue found her nipple. She was so close to something wonderful. He sucked her breast, nipping her with his teeth and she stopped breathing all together. Her hands gripped his hair, holding him in place. Her skin was wet as he continued to lick her, and she arched her back, pressing a hard nipple against his tongue.

John groaned against her soft flesh. He had hoped to be slow and tender with her, but that wasn't in the cards for them right now. He couldn't hold back and so he stopped trying. Sinking lower against her body, he heard her babble something unintelligible? He continued his descent, opening her legs roughly and finding her with his hot mouth. She bucked off the bed, and he devoured her until she gave over everything to him. When her body seized, he watched her orgasm, and then he kissed his way back to her sweet mouth. She opened her legs and he sank into the folds of her body, pushing into her very center. He closed his eyes for a second, hovering over her lips. She was everything he ever wanted, and then she lifted against him and he withdrew, only to push into her again heatedly.

Natalie could hear the sounds bubbling from her throat, but couldn't stop them. He was so deep, and she burned everywhere that he touched her. Her hips moved frantically, meeting him every step of the way, and she raked her nails down his back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sank into his kiss, feeling his tongue rake against her own. There was a fire inside and it was spreading. She moaned into his mouth, and then pushed him until he rolled over. She went with him, and felt her pulse jump when he cried out.

John wasn't going to last much longer. She was straddling his hips while he surged upward into her hot body, and he couldn't ever remember feeling so completely inside her. He stretched her, and stared at the glory of her nakedness. Her hands were gripping his chest, holding herself up, and her eyes were closed tightly. Her hair was flailing around her shoulders, gently rocking with the rhythm of their bodies, and her hips were undulating in time with his. He felt his body tighten at the sight of her. He reached up and gripped her swaying breasts with his strong hands, and she opened her eyes. Her body lowered to his, rubbing, and he grabbed her ass, guiding her along his length while he pumped harder. She stuck her tongue into his mouth and then curled over his shoulder as she snapped again, orgasming. _Dear God! _He felt her muscles clamp tightly around him, warming him, and she whispered his name against his ear. He crashed over the edge, lifting his hips and burying himself deep inside. He shot into her, filling her as he came, and she convulsed one last time, shaking them both to the core.

Natalie lay on top of him with her face curled into his neck. She concentrated on breathing, trying to get air back into her lungs, and ran a hand over his hair, petting him. She didn't move, but stayed exactly how she was, not ready to let him go. He shifted slightly and placed tiny butterfly kisses along her head and shoulder. She shivered as his hands travelled up and down her back, gliding against her moist skin. Then she pressed a hand into the mattress and rose over him. "We do that very well."

He touched her lips with shaky fingers and returned her steadfast gaze. He grabbed her hair roughly and kissed her deeply, rubbing her tongue with his own. He rolled again, trapping her beneath him. "Yes we do," he said, staring with renewed heat. "Let's do it again." Then he pressed against her neck, tasting her salty flesh with his tongue before trailing his lips down to her shoulder.

Natalie felt helpless. She was a slave to her body, her heart, and her mind. The sensations he brought out in her were overwhelming, and the only thing she could do was surrender to them. His lips ran along her collarbone and his fingers clutched at the hair that was tangled around them. "John...?" she whispered into the air.

He looked into her eyes and rose overhead, staring directly into her soul. His eyes softened. "Stop thinking about tomorrow." Her hands gripped his back and slid lower, holding his hips. He kissed one eye and then the other, before pressing his mouth against her ear. "Let me love you Natalie." A soft sound escaped, and he knew that she was crying. Then she was circling him with her arms and legs, holding him tightly.

"Love me," she repeated, pleading. Her hands slid over his back again and made their way to his ass, pushing him closer, flesh on flesh. She whimpered when he shifted. He was still deep inside her body, and was growing thicker as he regained an erection. He was burning her again.

John kept his mouth at her ear, shying away from her beautiful green eyes. If he looked at her she would know, and then there would be no turning back. His walking away would kill him. He heard her whimper again, and he began to move. He was made to move inside her. The walls hugged him, causing an unbearable friction, and he let sounds tumble out of his throat. He slid back and then thrust in, over and over again. Her cries made his blood boil, turning him on even more - pushing him closer to the goal that was just on the horizon.

John curled an arm around her lower back, hugging her body as he rose onto his knees. He licked his dry lips, and watched her breasts rock in time to his rhythm. His entire body tensed. He thought it would snap. He took an impudent nipple into his mouth and sucked, and she pierced his ears as she shouted his name. He entwined their fingers and pressed her hands above her head, pinning her to the bed. His hips slowed, taking his time as he sank into her heat, watching her mouth as she panted beneath him. He kissed her long and slow, taking great care in his exploration. Then he withdrew from her body and she cried out in protest.

Natalie felt as though he had just cut off an arm. He pulled from her so suddenly, and she was desperate to reach that edge and tumble blindly over it. She needed him more than she's needed anything in her life. He lay on her, pressing her into the softness of the bed, teasing her with the promise of something that he was denying her. She decided to do some teasing of her own. Reaching out, Natalie grabbed him firmly, holding his hot length and caressing it. Letting it singe her. She heard him blow out a breath, and felt a familiar wetness, and then she tugged gently, trying to pull him to her. His eyes sparked and his breath caught, and she knew that she had won.

John was done playing. He pushed her legs apart, widening them, and buried himself inside her once again. "Aaaa...Natalie..." he breathed, pushing in and out, demanding everything.

She squeezed with her thighs, arching her back and pushing her head into her pillow as she found the release she was looking for. Her heart pounded and her body shut down, numbing to everything but the feelings that flooded her from head to toe.

John tumbled right along with her. He felt her quake, and then began to follow suit. Her shudders were the catalyst, and he erupted with an intensity that he has never experienced before. His entire body shook until the only thing he was aware of was the fire that seared him. It started between his legs, and spread to every cell in his body. His chest heaved, gasping for breath, and he collapsed, pinning her under his weight.

Natalie tried to move but couldn't. It didn't matter. His body absorbed the shudders that still ravaged her, and she lowered her arms to the mattress, gripping the duvet. She felt his lips against the side of her head as he kissed her softly and then lifted himself slightly. She slowly lowered her legs and sighed as he slid from inside her, rolling onto his back. She stared at her ceiling, just breathing and feeling. For the first time in a long time, she wasn't thinking about anything.

She didn't know how much time passed, but she knew it was awhile. They both lay silent, breathing and staring straight ahead. At some point, his hand found her thigh and rested there. She relished the contact, needing some small assurance that it wasn't all a dream. He turned his body, and she could feel his eyes as they watched her softly. She copied him, and smiled at what she saw. He looked happy. Really, happy.

"Hey," he said, letting a grin brighten his face.

"Hey."

His hand pushed her hair from her face, securing it behind her ear. He couldn't stop touching her so he moved down her arm, careful of her wound, until he got to her tiny hand. He looked into her eyes. "Ask me anything," he said, knowing she had things she needed to know. He continued to study her, playing with her fingers.

She was so afraid. "I thought you didn't want to think about tomorrow?"

"Natalie, it's coming whether we want it to or not." He lifted her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her palm.

"Do you?"

"What?"

Her throat felt constricted. "Want it to?" When he looked at her again, her heart stopped beating. The intensity she saw stole her breath. There was so much honesty in him now.

"No," he answered clearly. "No, I don't want that."

Natalie felt a tear slip over her skin, and he brushed it away.

"Ask me," he said again, pushing.

She took a breath, and then another. Finally she spoke. "What happens when we find Jarod?" It was all she could manage to get out, but there was so much wrapped up in that one question. He ran a warm hand over her face and then leaned in, kissing her. She fell into it for a moment, but then shook her head, pulling back. "Please don't?" she pleaded. She watched him lay back onto the pillow and stare, trying to figure out what to say to her? Her heart ached, but it still beat. _You can do this!_

"I don't want to leave," he confessed, still watching. His eyes looked haunted. "But I can't stay."

This time it was she who touched him. His cheek, his lips. She kissed him gently. "I know." She did. "Can you tell me why?"

He frowned. How could he answer that? It was so mixed up, so complicated. He saw her desperation, her need reflecting back at him and he knew that he owed her something? "I..." He stopped, still staring.

Natalie's heart was beating wildly against her breast. "Is it just guilt?" she asked softly, terrified that he would get angry and shut down on her.

"No." He wouldn't lie. "I was going to marry her. I wanted to marry her." She didn't shy away from his words, and he pressed on, knowing that it was hurting her. His voice deepened as he steeled himself to continue. "Haver was playing a game. That's all it was to him. He maneuvered us like in a game of chess, and he used Caitlyn as his pawn. I know that he was the one who did it. He killed her, I know that," John paused, praying that she would understand, "but it was still my fault."

"John...?"

He touched her mouth, needing to get it out while he still could. "I can't stay Natalie. I won't. I owe it to her."

"And what about what you owe yourself?" She could begin to feel his wall slip back into place, brick by brick. "She would want you to be happy John."

He frowned and rolled onto his back again, feeling the tension creep inside, burrowing under his skin. "You don't know what she'd want."

Natalie felt those words acutely. She felt the first stirrings of anger, coiling inside. "She loved you." She wasn't going to let him disappear without a fight.

"And now she's dead."

"But you're not John!" Her voice was rising, along with her frustration. "You're alive, so why don't you act like it?" He rolled off the bed and paced the room, shaking his head. She sat up, still challenging him. "So what is this? This mission to rid the world of every serial killer? Is it penance?"

He stopped and looked at her, looked through her. "Maybe?" She just sat there, waiting, and he took a step toward her. "When Haver killed her," he paused, "when he shattered my world, he also gave me a unique insight into his. I understand men like him, and I can find them. I _do _find them. I'm better at it than anyone else, so you tell me how to stop? How do I walk away, knowing that I can help someone to live? That I can stop it from ever happening again?"

She didn't have an answer for him. He pulled his pants on and left the room, and she sat alone. She felt alone.

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><p>Sandler turned toward the kitchen. He could hear cupboard doors slamming, and knew that it was John rummaging through them. Then he watched his friend come into the room with a very large bottle of Jack Daniel's. "So I guess the honeymoon's over?" he said, sitting up.<p>

John ignored him and sat down, taking a long pull off the bottle.

"Easy." He was feeling uncomfortable. "I'm here to save you from a psycho, not a hangover."

John was silent for a moment, staring hard at the garden picture hanging on the wall. "She doesn't get it." He took another drink.

"Well, she's a woman so she wouldn't, would she?" Mike met his friend's eyes, as he turned. "She doesn't want you to leave. You should feel thankful that she even gives you the time of day."

"Would you be serious."

"I am serious John. Look at you, you're a wreck."

He grimaced. "Why are we friends again?"

Sandler sighed. When he spoke his tone was serious. "You can't stay. Fine. I know it, you know it, and she definitely knows it. You could be leaving tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that. Do you really want to spend your time in a drunken stupor?"

He glanced back at the garden. Then he handed the bottle to the agent and walked toward the hall.

"John?" He turned. "That's why we're friends?"

"Don't drink all that. You're on duty." He said it as a joke, but they both knew that it wasn't. Then he walked back to the bedroom.

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><p>John stood in the doorway for a few minutes, just watching her. She was under the covers with her back to him, but he knew she was wide awake. He shut the door and locked it. He took off his pants and slipped into the bed, slowly moving closer. She tensed, but didn't move away. His arm circled her waist, pulling her against his chest. His heart began to thump, excited by her touch. He put his mouth to her ear. "I'm sorry," he said, squeezing tighter. She relaxed against him and turned her head so that she could see him. He grinned awkwardly. "I can be an ass."<p>

Natalie smiled softly and curled her hand behind his neck. "No more talking," she said, tugging. He touched his mouth to hers and she sighed, wanting this. Her body felt electrified, and began to warm. His tongue slid over her lips, and she sighed again.

"Natalie, we should talk."

She shook her head. "No. We've said everything John, but our time isn't up yet. Please don't waste it?" She turned around again, unable to bear his scrutiny. His breath was hot upon her ear, and his chest heaved, heating her skin. He flattened a palm over her stomach, pressing her flush against him. She felt his arousal at her backside, and her sexual awareness shot through the roof.

John had no intention of wasting anymore time. He sucked her shoulder, and grabbed a boob, massaging it with his eager fingers. She was so damn sexy. He nudged her with his knee, and slowly lifted her leg, granting him access. He licked his way up her smooth neck until he reached her ear, and then took her lobe into his mouth. She was moaning, and searching him out. One hand grabbed his, while he kneaded her breast, and the other squeezed his ass.

He reached down and held her hip tightly before entering her in one smooth thrust, relishing the feel of her ass pressing into him. She was pure fire, and he had to touch her. Her hair tickled his face as he rocked against her, pushing in and out in an even tempo. Her moans increased, filling the room, and his blood boiled.

"God, John," she whispered, losing herself in him. He was scorching her soul. Her breathing was becoming laboured, and her body was molten.

His need was taking over his reason now, and he continued to pump into her desperately. Loving her from this angle was sweet torture, but it was also driving him to distraction. He felt her stretch backward and grab his hair, and he rotated their bodies until she was laying on her stomach. He rose to his knees and brought her with him, holding her hips against his own, and he increased his pace. He had to have all of her now!

"Please?" she begged, pressing her face into her pillow while he drove her crazy. She could feel him touch her center, and she was screaming into the cloth. He rocked against her relentlessly and she screamed again, overwhelmed by the ecstasy that encompassed her. Then she felt him slow his movement, almost stopping.

John leaned forward, touching his front to her back, and gripped her hair with one hand. He was throbbing inside and knew that he was at his end. When he began to move again he felt a slow build flood his body. His cock ached, and that ache grew with swift intensity until it was all he knew. Until it was everything. He pumped again, unable to keep his hips from moving, and cried out as he exploded. He surged, spilling out, and it felt like an eternity before he was finally finished. He could barely breathe, and continued to rock his hips, shaking from the aftershocks that wracked his body.

Natalie felt every blissful second of his orgasm, and it went on forever. She clamped onto him, pulling him deeper into her core, and screamed into her pillow one last time. He reacted to her tight embrace, and pushed harder, pushed faster. Then they were both spent, and he removed himself and rolled her around so that he could see her face. They stared at one another in silence, not needing to speak, only needing each other. There would be no sleep tonight.


	28. Chapter 28

Kismet pt. 28

Sandler stood in the hallway and stared at the closed bedroom door. He shook his head, not thrilled with his current assignment, and then tapped on it softly. He waited before knocking a little harder. "McBain!" he shouted, stepping back and leaning against the wall.

John finally came out and stared at his friend. "What?" He pulled his shirt over his head. Sandler held out his cell. "McBain," he answered into the phone. "Alright. I said alright damn it!" He hung up and tossed it back to the agent. "We can breathe easy now, Hodges is on his way."

Sandler was grinning. "I feel safer already." There was an uncomfortable pause, while the two men stared at one another. Mike glanced past his friend, checking out the room. "Have a good sleep?"

John frowned. He could hear the water from the shower being shut off, and turned to see steam billowing out from the adjoining bathroom. The door was open. He promptly stepped into the hall, shutting them out, and didn't bother answering the question. Instead, he watched Sandler walk to the kitchen, chuckling as he went. He followed and poured a very large, very needed cup of coffee. He scrounged for a couple of bowls and filled them with corn flakes and poured some milk. Finally, he got fed up with being watched and turned his attention to Sandler, waiting.

"So? No sleep then?" Mike asked, prying.

"No," a voice answered from behind. Sandler turned to find Natalie. She was dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a worn shirt. Her hair was wet, and combed back. She looked directly at him. "No sleep at all."

John lowered his head and grinned. He couldn't help it. He passed her one of the bowls and took a seat at the table. She sat across from him and ate. Neither spoke.

"Unbelievable," Sandler said, laughing.

They both continued to ignore him and devour their breakfast. Then John got up and brought over everything to the table. Natalie was already filling her bowl again when he sat down. They stopped long enough to look at him, still standing and watching. "What?" they said in unison. He laughed again.

"Alright, do we know what we're going to do today?" she asked, needing to feel like a grown up.

John sighed and rubbed his eyes. He was exhausted. "We need to find Jarod," he snapped, frustrated. She put her spoon down and looked at him, and he shook his head slightly. His voice lost its edge. "We need to go back over everything from the beginning. Now that we know who he is, there may be something there that we couldn't see before?"

She continued to stare, but also relaxed a bit. "We should go through his apartment again." She paused. "I should." Neither man said anything, but they didn't like it. She could see it as plain as anything. "I know him." Natalie frowned and cleared her throat. "I knew him," she corrected, feeling her stomach tighten.

"Listen," Sandler began, "you two weren't the only one's who didn't get any sleep last night." He watched Natalie blush slightly. "I'm gonna crash for a couple." He turned to the detective. "Why don't you start with everything at the station and I'll meet up with you? We'll both toss the bastard's apartment later."

She looked to John and then back to Sandler. "I don't need help," she snapped, defensively. "I can do my job."

He didn't flinch. "That's not what I meant."

"Well, what then?"

"He meant that this is a bureau matter and we have no intention of letting this guy get away again." Hodges stood in the hallway, and then joined them in the tiny kitchen. "He meant that as helpful as the LPD has been, it in no way equals the resources of the FBI."

Natalie stood and faced the unwelcome visitor. She was pissed. "I don't recall inviting you in. This is my house, you ass!"

Hodges grinned and ignored her outburst. "Agents, we have a very dangerous man on the loose. Do you think you could do your jobs and catch the son of a bitch?"

John wanted to hurt him. He actually wanted to beat him until he bled. He took a deep breath and then stood. "Why don't we continue this at the station?" He felt the anger from her eyes, but stared at Jerry, who was looking back and forth between them. Finally, Hodges left the house. John turned his sharp gaze toward Natalie, tensing.

Her eyes were wide as realization dawned on her. "You agree with him."

"I agree that the FBI is a resource that we need to take advantage of." She continued to look at him, shocked. He blew out a breath. "Hodges is a..." he stopped, leaning on the table. "Well, you know what he is." He stared, and knew how conflicted she was feeling. "Sandler needs to be at the apartment with you Natalie."

"And where are you going to be?"

He straightened. "I'm going to be out there looking for the bastard."

"Which is where I should be, and you know it." Mike watched his friend glare at him. "You know it," he repeated, staring back.

"Alright!" John shouted, growing impatient. "This isn't a debate." He continued to look at his agent for a moment. He did know it. "Fine. You can help me go over the crime scenes. We need to retrace Jarod's steps during the investigations. Where he went? What he touched? Everything." He turned to Natalie. "Sam will go through the apartment with you later." She was still angry, but seemed slightly more receptive. "First, you need to go over everything again Nat. If there's something to find, you'll find it."

She looked at him a moment longer, and then walked toward the hallway. She stopped at the sound of his deep voice.

"Watch your ass, Buchanan."

Natalie walked back to the table and stopped right in front of him. She remembered the last time she was stubborn, and how close she had come to losing him. Jarod could have killed him on that damn couch. She raised herself up slightly and wrapped a hand around the back of his neck. She kissed him, and was instantly rewarded. His hand gripped her head, holding her as his tongue swept her willing mouth. He was watching her, and she opened her eyes and smiled, sinking back to the floor. "I always do, McBain," she answered, "you watch yours." She headed to the front door, knowing that both men would follow. They had work to do.


	29. Chapter 29

Kismet pt.29

Bo sat at his desk and handed a file across to his friend. He watched Hodges open it and read through the pages in silence. "Why are you so hard on McBain?" he asked out of the blue. He couldn't help it. "You push him, why?"

Jerry looked up. He grabbed the coffee in front of him and took a drink. It was bad coffee. "How are you handling this Jarod thing?" His diversion was short-lived.

Bo shook his head. "Uh-uh. Why?"

The agent sat back and sighed, running a hand over his face. "He needs a push with your niece around." Jerry watched his friend's eyes flash briefly, but he wasn't the type to lose his temper easily.

"That's not it."

"What is it then?"

Bo stared. "You like him."

Jerry chuckled. "You always were too damn sentimental, Bo. I like what he's able to do. When McBain is on a trail," he stopped and met the steady eyes that followed his every move, "I mean, _really_ on a trail, it's a thing of beauty. The kid is the best I've seen."

"But?"

"But he's arrogant. He's stubborn and reckless and downright ornery." Jerry stood. "Don't tell me you haven't worried about him being near Natalie?" Bo didn't answer, and Jerry nodded, knowingly. "That's what I thought? On the one hand he's the best there is, and on the other..."

"On the other," Bo finished, "he's completely unpredictable." He chuckled softly and met the man's confused expression. "I may be sentimental, but you're a control freak. You still need and expect blind obedience, but that's wishful thinking buddy." He watched Jerry frown and take the seat across from him again. "John may take risks, ones that you don't like, but he gets results and he would never hurt Natalie."

This time Hodges chuckled. "See? Sentimental."

"He's in love with her you ass!" He didn't say anything. "Listen, do me a favor? Ease up a bit. Let him do what you say he can do. I'm betting that he's still as good as before."

Hodges was confused. "What? Are you his appointed advocate for fair and just treatment?" Bo stared. "Why is this important to you? He's a mess Bo, and he's a royal pain in the ass!"

Bo took a sip of his own coffee and winced. "This is not good." He saw Jerry waiting for an answer. "He's young and a bit impetuous, but he's a good man." He saw the agent's lip curl slightly. "What? You don't think so? I know a thing or two about good men. If I didn't, we wouldn't be friends, would we? Afterall, I don't like you a lot of the time."

Jerry smiled, despite himself. "He could get Natalie killed."

"Don't worry about Natalie. She's a survivor. She can take care of herself."

Hodges was pressing the issue, not convinced. "He could get someone else killed."

"Or he could come through? Have a little faith."

Jerry sneered. "Faith. I lost that a long time ago. Now I go with my gut, and it's telling me that trouble is coming straight for McBain. When it does, I don't intend on going down with him."

* * *

><p>John walked into the police station and barely registered the uniforms that he passed in the hall. When he reached the lobby he glanced at the clock. It was one in the afternoon. <em>Damn! <em>The day was flying by, and he hadn't found a single useful lead. He spotted Bo and Hodges through the glass and strolled purposefully into the office without knocking. "Anything?" he asked bruskly, closing the door behind him. His hands went to his hips.

"Shouldn't we be asking you that?" Jerry snapped, already angry. "Mind telling us where you've been all morning?"

John walked over and automatically shook Bo's hand. He took off his jacket and sat, ignoring the obvious hostility of his so-called superior. "I just finished up at the alley. The murder scenes are clean. I thought maybe, now that we know what we're looking for?" He glanced briefly at Hodges. "Who we're looking for...?" He sank into the chair, ready to drop. He rubbed his red eyes. "Any word from Nat?" He stared at Bo. "Did she find anything?"

"No. Nothing." Bo was frustrated. "Jarod covered his tracks well. We've learned a few things, but absolutely nothing that will tell us where he is now or what his next move will be?"

"Maybe he's already made his next move?" Hodges suggested, watching John visibly stiffen.

Bo tensed as well. "You think he's left. That he's switching cities again."

John rested his head in his hands for a moment, before shaking off the possibility. He turned to Jerry. "No, he's still here."

"Are you sure? Or is there another reason why you want to stick around?"

"Listen Hodges?" John shouted, before being stopped dead in his tracks.

Bo stood abruptly from his chair. "I've had it with both of you!" he yelled, staring hard at the two men across from him. "This has got to stop. Bickering back and forth over Natalie is not helping anyone. We have to find Jarod before he hurts another innocent girl, so I don't want to hear a peep out of either one of you again unless it has something to do with this case! Is that clear?" He looked from one to the other, satisfied by their stunned silence. "Good," he said evenly, once again taking his seat. The awkward tension in the office was stifling.

John licked his lips. "Where's Sandler?" he croaked, feeling like a complete fool.

"He's checking all the possible exits - planes, buses, cars, etc..." Hodges stood. "I'm going to go call Kehler, and then coordinate the patrols in the city. I'm also going to check into possible connecting crimes across the country. I'm not as convinced as McBain, that the guy's still in town." He left.

John stared ahead, rolling his eyes. He closed them and ran his hands through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You need some sleep," Bo said, stating the obvious. The young man looked at him and smiled weakly. "Did you get any last night?"

John squirmed slightly, suddenly very awake and very uncomfortable. "No," he answered simply. The less he said about last night, the better. His phone rang, and he reached for it, glad for the interuption. "McBain. Hey, what's up? Now's not so good. Yeah? Can it wait?" He sat back, nodding. "Alright!" His voice was getting aggitated. "I'm on my way." Then he hung up and looked at Bo. "I have to go," he said, standing and putting on his jacket.

"Anything I need to know?"

"No," John answered, walking to the door. "Tell Sandler to keep his phone on."

He left, and Bo sat back in his chair and stared at the coffee cup on his desk. They needed to catch Jarod soon. Then he rose from his seat and headed out, wanting to check in with Natalie. Wanting to do more.

* * *

><p>"So what the hell's so urgent?" John asked, approaching his brother.<p>

Mike frowned, annoyed by the tone being used. "Shut the door," he ordered, sitting back in his chair. "It's nice to see you too...and that you're still in town."

John took a seat at the desk and stared. He was angry. "You call me over here to give me a hard time, Mike?"

"No, damn it! I wanted to see my brother."

John was still frowning. "That's nice and all, but I'm trying to catch a killer."

Michael's eyes widened slightly. "You know who it is, don't you?"

He sat back still frowning. "Yeah," John admitted at last, "I know."

"Well? Who is it?"

John stood from his chair. "I can't talk about it Mike, so if there's nothing else?" He walked to the door.

"Wait! There is something else." He watched his brother turn and look at him, waiting. "I called you here to see you, but..."

"But what?"

Now Michael was frowning. "I have a job to do too John. I need to remove your stitches."

"Are you kidding me?" He strode forward. "I don't have time for this Mike!"

"Make time John. It'll take two minutes. I told you to meet me here yesterday." He glared, but didn't bolt for the door. Michael took that as a good sign. "Just sit your ass down and we'll get this over with, alright?"

After an uncomfortable moment, he sat back in the chair and watched his little brother roll towards him with some funny looking scissors. "I can't believe I'm letting you anywhere near my mouth?"

Mike smiled. "Come on, man?" John opened up, and he made quick work of the stitches. "See?" he teased, finishing, "two minutes. It still looks pretty raw though. How's it feel?"

"It's fine." John felt the prying stare and glared back. "What?"

"Fine?"

He was grinning, and John wanted to punch him in his smug face. "Fine," he said again.

"So how's Natalie?"

John stood. "She's out doing her job, which is what I should be doing?" He walked to the door again. "Hey, Mike?"

"Yeah, brother?"

John was struggling with what he wanted to say. He shouldn't be saying anything. "Jarod Hamilton is our guy. So if you see him?"

"I'll call."

John nodded and opened the door. "Thanks Mike," he said as he walked out.


	30. Chapter 30

Kismet pt.30

"So, it's been like 20 minutes since you've said anything." Natalie looked at the man who shared the room with her. "What's up?"

He turned and smiled, but he was distracted. "Sorry." He stared at the photo on the wall. It was taken in front of the police station. The Commissioner and Detective Buchanan were in it. Officer Davis, and a couple other uniforms as well. Everyone was smiling or laughing. Everyone was happy. "It just baffles me, I guess?" he spoke aloud, before he realized he was going to.

She walked over to him, frowning as she looked at the picture. "I remember that day," she said softly, feeling like a knife was twisting in her gut. He was watching her now. She blew out a breath. "Son of a bitch!" she swore, walking with her hands on her slender hips. She was pacing the tiny livingroom. "How can this be happening?"

Sam didn't say anything right away. He nodded to the officer at the door, who promptly shut it, giving them some time alone. When she stopped moving and looked at him again, he smiled.

She shook her head. "Why are you baffled?" she asked, wanting to know? He looked surprised.

"Oh, well I guess I just don't get it?" She stared, waiting for him to continue. "How this guy can be two things?"

"What do you mean?"

He raised a hand to his hip, and turned back to the photo on the wall. "He's normal, but not really. He's a good friend, but also using everyone to continue to hide his secret. He's a cop," Sam paused, feeling the sting of those words acutely, "but he's a killer." He stared at Natalie. "I don't get it?"

"Do you want to know something?"

"What's that?"

"I don't get it either." She looked at a diploma hanging on the wall. "None of this makes sense."

"Unless you're McBain," Sam added, quickly. His head shot up, when he realized what he blurted. She was watching him. "He just gets in their heads, you know? I never really understood how?"

"Yeah." Natalie felt an unbearable sadness. She finally understood. John has been telling her over and over again that he was good at his job, that he was needed, but she didn't want to listen. She wanted him to be exaggerating so that he could stay.

"You alright?" Sam asked, feeling a change in her. She was nervous energy, but she was also sad.

Natalie smiled. She didn't feel like smiling, but she managed it anyway. "Fine. We should probably head back. There's nothing here that we don't already know."

Sam hesitated. "You sure you're okay? You seem upset?"

"You would be too if your friend was a psycho murderer." He bristled slightly at her words, and she was sorry for that, but it had to be done. She didn't want to talk about McBain anymore.

"So let's go."

They both left the apartment, leaving the officer at the door. He would remain and guard the space, but Natalie knew that it didn't matter. Jarod wasn't coming back here. She didn't know how she knew that, but she did?

* * *

><p>Sandler stood a few feet from McBain, who was kneeling on the pavement and staring intently at the bottom of the chain link fence. "Why are we back here again, John?" he asked, leaning against the worn brick of the building. "John?" he bellowed, finally getting the attention he wanted. His friend stood and met his sharp gaze with one of his own. "We've been here twice already today. What gives Columbo?"<p>

He frowned. It was hotter today than it has been. There were black, ugly clouds overhead, but it was muggy. He wiped his brow and removed his jacket, tossing it at his friend's feet. "I'm missing something?" he said, feeling aggitated. "Where did he go? How did he get away?"

"Does it matter, man?" Mike crossed his arms over his chest and glared right back at the angry blue eyes across from him. "Let's say we find out how he escaped your clutches? Then what? Maybe we'll even get a print. We know who we're looking for now."

"We could find something?" John was pissed. "What is this? You're the one that wanted to be out in the field helping to track the bastard!"

"Yeah, and I was right. We've covered twice as much ground."

John stalked forward, watching his friend stand to meet his challenge. "What? Are you giving up?"

Mike frowned. "I never give up."

"What then?" he snapped, feeling his anger begin to grip him tightly.

Sandler stared hard. "Have you even considered, for one minute, that Hodges may be right?"

John was surprised. He chuckled. "Is that what this is about? You agree with Hodges?"

"That's not what I said."

"Enough with the double talk. It's not you." His eyes narrowed. "Get to the point, Mike."

"Look at yourself, man. You're floundering, and that my friend, isn't you."

John stepped away and walked to the fence, gripping it with one hand. His eyes scanned the alley through the metal diamonds. "I guess this guy's just smarter than me?"

"Bullshit! That's not it. I think you're stalling."

John spun around and faced the agent. He was almost tongue tied. Almost. "You think that I'm sabotaging this investigation? So what? I can stay in Llanview."

"No man. I know you would never do that." He walked forward, feeling a chill from the cold stare that he was receiving. "I think that there is a strong possibility that we haven't found anything because there is nothing left to find. He may have left, and I think that you know that, but you don't want it to be true. You don't want to leave Natalie."

John punched him. He hadn't planned on it, or even thought about it. He just did it.

Sandler felt his head snap back from the force of the blow, and instinctively grabbed the fence, holding himself up. He was caught off guard, but quickly shook it off, holding his jaw as he met his friend's eyes again. There was a silence while he fought the urge to strike back. "Feel better?" he rasped, already feeling his lip begin to swell.

John stepped back and covered his eyes with his hand. He shook his head. "No," he answered, turning his attention down the empty alleyway.

"You won't as long as you keep this up!" Mike snapped, angry too. "I know what you've found here McBain...with Natalie, but you can't have it both ways anymore." He continued to stare hard, unable to hold back. He was as tired as everyone else. "You keep saying that you're doing your job, so do it damn it! Stop pussyfooting around and get this guy so that we can all put this behind us!" Sandler turned away and walked over to the building. Then he picked up the jacket and threw it at McBain. "Times up John. Do your job, or step aside." He left the alley and headed for the station.

John stood there for awhile, reeling from his friend's outburst. He wanted to hit him again. His anger was acute, but it was turning inward. Sandler often said some assinine things, but he was always honest, and his words kept replaying over and over in his brain. ..._times up John. do your job, or step aside..._ He took a deep breath, and then another. Then he walked to his rental car and drove back to the police station.

* * *

><p>Natalie sat across from her uncle and watched him sort out his thoughts. He was figuring how to broach the subject of her and John. She knew it, and held back the smile that wanted out. He was always so careful of her, and she loved him for it, but he was a Buchanan. That meant he would be offering an unsolicited and probably unwanted opinion any second now. She continued to stare in silence.<p>

"It must have been hard going through Jarod's apartment?" She shrugged. "So you didn't find anything?" She shook her head. Bo leaned forward, staring directly into her big eyes. "Natalie, you seem pretty close with McBain these days?" Still silence, but he pressed on. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"I thought you liked John."

"I do. A lot actually, but I love you."

This time she did smile. "I know Uncle Bo and thanks, but everything will work out the way it's supposed to. I promise."

He sat back and his eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?"

She opened her mouth, about to speak, but John and Mike walked into the room. She found his eyes instantly, and felt the familiar warmth that always accompanied his gaze. "Hey," she said softly. He nodded, obviously feeling as uncomfortable as her, and then took the seat next to her.

"Any luck?" Sandler asked, standing behind the chairs.

Natalie looked at him. "No. What happened to you?" His lip was swollen, and his chin was bright red. She looked at John, who stared at the wall behind Bo.

"Nothing, why?" Mike asked, playing dumb.

Natalie sneered, and saw the amusement on her uncle's face. "Never mind," she deadpanned. _Men! _she thought, shaking her head.

"So did you find anything at the apartment?" John asked, finally looking at her. She shook her head. "You alright?" He was worried about her. Jarod had been a good friend.

"Fine," she snapped, more harshly than she intended. It was just hard when he was nice to her. When he cared. She had to find a way to pull back from him for both their sakes. "I'm sorry. It's just, everyone keeps asking me that." He watched her, but was letting it go. "I don't break, McBain."

His lip curled slightly. "I've noticed that." Their eyes were locked on each other, and she wanted to scream. Distancing herself was obviously not going to work. All he had to do was look at her like how he was now, and she was done for.

Hodges opened the door to the office and found it full. Sam was right on his heels. "Good, everyone's here. That means I don't have to repeat myself." He closed the door and joined the meeting.

"What's going on?" Bo asked, recognizing the signs.

"There's been another murder."

John and Natalie both stood.

"Where?" McBain asked. _Too late again! _he scolded, bitterly.

"Port Place," Hodges answered, enjoying the surprise in his agent's eyes, "the next town over." He wasn't happy about the poor girl, but he definitely liked being right over McBain.

Sam shook his head. "So he did relocate."

Sandler stared at John for a moment. "Okay, so now we know. Let's get moving on this." He paused, still staring at his friend. Then he walked forward and smiled at Natalie. "Detective," he said softly, before hugging her. He shook the Commissioner's hand, and glanced at Sam. "Say your goodbyes sweetheart, we've got open road in our future." His friend smiled and quickly did as he was told. They both walked from the room and the building.

Hodges walked up to Bo. He took his hand. "I'll call you soon."

"You do that." He walked around the desk. "Why don't I walk you out?" he suggested, leading Jerry toward the door.

Hodges stopped and turned to his agent. "You have five minutes," he ordered firmly, before letting himself be lead away.

John stared at the closed door to the office and felt his chest constrict. Time really was up. When he finally turned around, Natalie was watching him with wide, soft eyes. There was no anger in them.

"So you should go," she said, feeling strangely numb. He nodded, but didn't move. "I want you to call me when you catch him, John. I need you too."

"I know." His voice sounded rough. "Natalie...?"

She quickly walked around the desk, carefully placing it between them. "We knew this was coming, right?" She looked up. "Go John." He still held his ground, and she forced a smile. One completely devoid of any real emotion. "I don't break, remember?"

He nodded, staring hard. He remembered. His heart was racing, and he continued to watch her, to study her. He burned her into his memory. Then he nodded again, and walked out the door.


	31. Chapter 31

Kismet pt.31

"McBain, you've been a ghost since we got here man."

John ignored the comment and stared at the dead girl in the parking lot. She had the telltale markings, the scrabble piece, everything? But it didn't feel right. She looked dead, not freshly killed like the others had been. He knelt and reached out, gently wrapping his hand around her forearm. She was cold to the touch. Well, colder than she should be. He turned and stared at the agents, and at Jerry. Then he grabbed his phone and called Llanview. After a very long moment, a voice filled his ears and he sighed, strangely relieved. "Hey," he said, very aware of the scowls directed his way.

"Hey?" Natalie answered, surprised. "What's up? Did you get him already?"

John shook his head. "No. I'm at the scene now."

"Right now? What's going on John?"

"I don't know, nothing I guess?" He turned his back on his colleagues. "Where are you?"

"At the station." She waited for him to speak again, but he didn't. "Come on, McBain," she pushed, "it's been two hours and you're at a crime scene. You're not calling because you missed me."

He grinned. "How do you know?" She didn't speak, but he knew that she was smiling. "Listen, do me a favor and keep some guards around tonight, alright?"

She stood from her desk and then leaned against it. "You think he's still here?"

"I don't know?" He walked further away from the scene, conscious of the fact that he was still being watched by the three agents. "I don't know where he is? That's the problem."

"John, you sound worried."

He chuckled, more exhausted than he ever remembered being. "Promise me Natalie," he pressed, unable to shake off his anxiety. There was another pause.

"Okay."

"No ditching right?"

She laughed softly. "No ditching. You just make sure to watch your own ass."

"Yes, ma'am." He ran a hand over his hair and glanced at the dead girl again.

"Good luck Federal Agent John McBain." She gripped the handpiece tighter and then hung up quickly.

He clicked his phone shut and walked back over to his waiting entourage.

"Mind telling me why you're calling your girlfriend when there's a dead girl ten feet away?" Jerry was pissed. He saw John square his shoulders. "Still think that you're all about the job, McBain?"

He took a breath and shook his head. "If you would stop jumping to conclusions, you might just realize that's exactly what that call was about."

Sandler joined in the conversation. "You getting one of your creepy vibes again?"

John frowned. "Look, somethings off? I don't know what it is, but it's something?"

"You still don't think that he's here, do you?" Hodges shook his head in disbelief. "I have a very real, very dead girl here, that suggests otherwise. Stop thinking with your dick and use your brain!"

John stepped forward, but Sandler interceded. "Back off Hodges! Damn!" The older man walked back to the body and started issuing orders to the local authorities.

"Where do you want us to start?" Sam asked, waiting for instruction. "Don't look so surprised, we've learned to listen to your..._intuitions." _

He turned back to the girl on the ground. "We start here. Let's finish up, then we'll see?" They got to work.

* * *

><p>Natalie sat and stared at the photo on her desk. The one of her and John outside the crappy hotel. The one telling her that she made the wrong choice, but Jarod had been wrong because there never was a choice. Not really? She loved him, and even though she hadn't known it then, she knew. She shook her head. "You're losing it Buchanan."<p>

"A-hem."

She saw her uncle in her doorway. "You heading home?"

"Yep. You wanna come? Matthew and I are going to have a movie night, complete with pizza." She smiled, but shook her head. "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I really need some sleep."

Bo chuckled. "Pine, Boris, and Johnson are already at your house. Take Brown and Ford with you when you leave."

She nodded, too tired to do anything but give in. Besides, she promised. "Good night." He smiled and wished her good night as well, before leaving. She glanced at the photo again, remembering that night with perfect clarity. How she had felt when he touched her? It was ridiculous to miss him so much after only a few hours, but she did. Standing, she grabbed her jacket and walked to the door. She briefly glanced at the wall which was still adorned with murder victims and maps, and shut off the light and locked her office. Then she met up with her security detail and finally left for home. She still needed sleep.

* * *

><p>Natalie walked into her house, shutting the world outside, and it felt good. For one night, she wanted to feel normal and not on edge. Her protectors had already checked inside, and she was grateful to be alone. It seems like forever ago since she's been alone, and that's difficult for someone who likes her space. Sliding off her shoes, she walked into her bedroom and flopped on her bed. <em>God, I love this duvet! <em>She lay there a moment longer, remembering the last time she had flopped on her bed. She had fallen fast asleep, and couldn't even recall John tucking her in.

She sat up and undid the buttons of her blouse. Then she slipped out of the silk and pulled a faded, stretched shirt over her head. Her cotton bed shorts came on next, and she walked to the kitchen for some coffee. She slowly filled the filter and poured the water, and then sprinkled a tiny bit of salt onto the grounds. Roxy - her first mother - her mother _not_ by blood - had actually shown her that trick when she was about ten years old.

_...sprinkle a tinge of this into the coffee and it won't be bitter. Trust me Natty, if it's one thing I know, it's coffee..._

Nat smiled softly. She had been right for a change. A very non-Roxy thing to do. Yawning, she grabbed an oversized mug from the cupboard and waited patiently for the drink to brew. She closed her eyes and thought about that day in the break room at work. Jarod had teased her about coffee, before John arrived with a cup from the diner. She had felt so good then. Just her and John and her friends, only that was another deception. It wasn't anymore real than Jarod himself had been. It was an illusion. All those times he had been nice. All those times he had asked innocent questions. That had been the lie. He used her and everyone else so that he could continue to hurt more girls, for the sake of some twisted love that was all in his head.

She stepped back and leaned against the opposing counter top. How could she not have known it was him? She ran the top of her foot along the back of her calf, and then closed her eyes and rotated her heavy head, stretching her stiff neck muscles. She was tired. The coffee finally finished and she topped up her large mug, holding it tightly and enjoying the warmth. Outside, the rain was pouring. She could hear the steady pitter-pat on her roof, and knew that she would fall asleep with ease tonight. The sound was soothing and would lull her into unconsciousness. She blew, and then took a cautious sip. Her phone rang, and she padded back into the bedroom.

"Buchanan."

"It's me," the deep voice said, crackling slightly from the connection.

She smiled. "Hi." She walked back to the kitchen and picked up the mug that she had set on the counter. "You sound tired."

"So do you."

"Yeah, well I'll sleep tonight, don't worry." He was silent on the other end, and she was afraid that he would hang up. It was too soon. "So how's it going?" There was more crackling. "John?"

"We're wrapping things up. Then we'll settle in and begin fresh in the morning."

She drank from her mug again, practically feeling his voice through the phone. It was wrapping around her and warming her more efficiently than the coffee. "Do you think he's in Port Place, John?"

"I d...n't kn..., Nat."

She frowned. "John? You still there?"

"Yeah. This reception sucks. I thi..k the storm is gonna finally hit t..ight."

She wanted to be there with him. "You should finish up before you get caught out in it."

"Yeah. List..n, you haven't di...ch..d those guards, have you?"

She smiled. "I promised didn't I? I told you not too worry about me. I can take care of myself, remember?"

More crackling. "I remember, but I kinda like worrying about you." The buzzing was getting louder. "Y... there?"

"Yeah? John?" she shouted, before the static got louder, cutting them off. She closed her phone and set it on the counter. He liked worrying about her. She smiled and grabbed her coffee again, taking another drink. When she turned the corner, she froze. "How...?"

"Did I get in here?" Jarod asked, seated casually on her sofa. "Well, that would be a secret." She opened her mouth to yell, but he shook his head and she stopped. "I wouldn't, unless you want me to kill them. I don't really want to, you know? They're my co-workers, my friend's."

Natalie dropped her mug on the carpet and ran back into her kitchen, grabbing her spare gun from the utensil drawer. Then she pointed it at the lunatic who was still seated comfortably in her livingroom. "Don't move." She took a step closer, careful not to take her eyes off of him.

"Why would I move? I came to see you. We need to talk, Natalie." He crossed his legs and kept his hands open in his lap.

Natalie was confused. What the hell was he doing? She quickly checked her gun. It had bullets. "Are you turning yourself in Jarod?" she asked, glancing at the glass doors.

He chuckled. "That would imply guilt. That I did something wrong? I didn't."

"You didn't kill those girls?" She was getting angry.

He sighed, looking bored with her. "You don't really listen do you? I didn't say that."

"Stand up!" She watched him rise. "Slowly." He did as she asked. "Why come here unarmed if you're not turning yourself in? Why come here at all? John's in Port Place. Isn't that where you should be?"

"I'm exactly where I should be, Natalie. With you." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Don't!" she ordered, watching him lower his hands back to his sides.

He chuckled. "You should relax. You're too tense."

"I get that way when psychos break into my house." Her gun was trained at his heart. If he actually had one? "In fact, I get that way when they break into my life." Her eyes narrowed. "You used me to hurt those women, you bastard!"

He frowned. "That's not true. I like you. I've always liked you. It's not my fault that you chose McBain instead of the artist. I tried to tell you."

She could feel her heart slamming in her chest. "I'm calling for help now."

"Bad idea, but it's your decision." He watched her glance toward the hallway.

She was standing here with a loaded gun, but couldn't stop sweating. She felt riddled with anxiety. What did he want? She decided to ask. "So what did you want to talk about?" She wiped her wrist over her brow, before holding the gun with both hands again.

"How about John McBain? That's a subject near and dear to my heart."

He was so calm and it was making her crazy. She felt slightly shaky, and squeezed the weapon tighter. "What would you know about John?"

"More than you," he spat, reining in his anger. "Although, I will admit that I was surprised to see him show up in Llanview. I didn't actually know he was working my case this whole time. That was a pleasant surprise."

"How so?" Natalie took a few steps back and leaned on the window sill for support. She kept her gun aimed at his chest, and he made no sudden movements.

Jarod bit his lower lip and smiled. "Well? Things got a lot more fun. I was starting to get bored." He stared into her eyes and smiled wider. "You're not looking so good. Maybe you should sit down?"

"Shut up!" she snapped, infuriated. "I'm fine, but you won't be with a bullet in your heart." Her eyes began to blur.

"I don't think you're fine Natalie, but don't worry, I'll take care of you." He watched her arms shake, trying to hold the weapon in the air. He stood his ground. "I won't hurt you Natalie." His eyes lost their joy. "I won't be the one to hurt you." Then he watched her sag against the glass, and quickly pulled her away from the window.

She sank to the floor. "What did you do to me?" Her voice was barely there.

He knelt over her and brushed her hair from her eyes. "You're just going to sleep for awhile, that's all. When you wake up, John will be with you. I know you'll like that." She closed her eyes, and her breathing slowed. He kissed her forehead. "I'll like that too." Then he picked her up from the floor. He needed to get started.


	32. Chapter 32

Kismet pt. 32

John sat on the double bed with his arms crossed over his chest. He stared at the wall, but saw the girl in the parking lot. The one who brought him here, away from Llanview and Natalie. He should be sleeping, he knew, but couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. In fact, something was very wrong? He had tried several times to get a hold of Natalie, but the phones were down. Something struck the window and he jumped out of his thoughts. The storm was really beginning to rage now. He got up and walked to the door, opening it, and stepped out into the wind and rain. It hit him hard, but he leaned on the wet metal railing and looked into the parking lot. He didn't know what he was looking for, but he was getting very nervous. Going back indoors, he shut the weather out and picked up the landline. There was no dial tone. His cell stopped working hours ago. _Pull it together, McBain!_

He went into the bathroom and grabbed a towel, dabbing the cold water from his skin. He stared in the mirror for a minute. This anxiety felt familiar. It felt like Haver. John dropped the towel and grabbed his jacket. He picked up the keys and his badge from the dresser and put his gun on his hip. Then he reached into his bag for some ammunition, before storming out to his rental car. He needed to get to Llanview and see that Natalie was alright.

* * *

><p>He couldn't see much, but he could see the flare. It beat back the darkness, shining a fiery orange, and he slowed the vehicle. An officer approached the car and tapped lightly on the window with a flashlight. He rolled it down, instantly being assaulted by the rain outside.<p>

"You can't be out here," the officer instructed, clearly annoyed that someone would be out in the storm. "The roads are closed."

John ignored him and turned his wipers up, trying to get a better view of up ahead. He flashed his high beams.

"Sir, please exit the vehicle?" the young man ordered, placing a hand at his hip. "Now," he insisted again, more forcefully.

John did as he was asked, and stepped out of his car. "How bad is it?" he shouted over the wind.

"I'll ask the questions."

Enough was enough. He flipped open his lapel and the uniformed officer swallowed at the sight of his federal badge. "I need through, and right now. How bad is the road?"

"It's blocked. Some trees came down." The young man turned his attention to another car, as it slid through the muck and finally stopped.

"McBain!" a voice yelled, while a man trudged forward. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

John wanted to laugh. _You're kidding? _He ran a hand over his face, wiping water from his eyes. "What? Are you tracking me?"

"I told you before, it's my job to keep tabs on the case, and my agents. What part of that didn't you get?" Hodges stood face to face with his wayward employee, squinting against the force of the icy wind. The rain was tilting, pelting him from the left pretty hard.

"I'm going to Llanview and I'm doing it tonight. If you have a problem with that then fire me?" John turned, and lifted a hand to his brow to shield himself. He looked at the officer. "When will the road be clear?"

"Probably not until morning? The storm is picking up. No one is supposed to be out here."

"Is there another way out? I need to get to Llanview tonight, not tomorrow."

The young man shook his head. "No sir."

Hodges grabbed the cops arm. "You got anyone who can drive a forklift?" He ignored John's stare.

"Yes, sir. I can do it."

"Good," Jerry shouted, pointing back the way he drove up, "about a mile that way, there's some equipment with a company called _Epp's Construction_. You get on the horn with whoever you need to, but you get that forklift here like your job depends on it." The officer nodded and ran to his vehicle. Then Jerry slowly met a pair of piercing blue eyes. "Don't look so surprised, damn it! I told you before that I've known Natalie a lot longer than you." They continued to stare at each other. "Besides, the last time I saw you this crazy was with Haver. You were right then, so...?"

John swallowed, not really sure what to say? He decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. He kept his mouth shut, and nodded. Then both men got into their vehicles and waited for the forklift to clear the road.

* * *

><p>Jarod sat and stared at a sleeping Natalie, wishing things could be different. He meant it when he had said that he liked her, but that didn't really matter anymore. Now she was spoiled. He could practically smell McBain on her skin and it made him sick. He leaned against a wooden chair and folded his hands behind his neck for support. Then he stared at the white ceiling and thought about how far he'd come? How far they all had come? In a matter of a week, or just over actually, his entire world had changed. His entire focus had changed. Before, he did what he had to do. Those women had been masquarading, every single one of them. They were trying to be something they weren't, his precious Caitlyn. So he punished them. They deserved it. But then John followed him to Llanview, and everything changed in one moment. One clear moment in time. It was no longer just about preserving Caitlyn's memory, but about righting a wrong. He finally had the chance to cleanse McBain from his memory, from his soul. He could finally, after all these long years, keep Caitlyn all too himself. Jarod sat up straight and looked at Natalie Buchanan again and smiled.<p>

John McBain would pay for everything. Finally...finally, he would pay.


	33. Chapter 33

DUH DUH DUH... *snickers*

* * *

><p>Kismet pt.33<p>

Bo walked through the glass doors and wiped the rain from his face. "Davis." The boy came running. "I want you out back with Johnson and Heedy. It's almost impossible to process anything with this damn storm, but..." His words trailed off.

"She's okay, Commissioner. I don't think Jarod would hurt her? I mean, I know that..."

Bo raised his hand, stopping him in mid-sentence. "I know," he said, watching the young man's eyes widen. "I don't want to think so either." Then the boy nodded and left the house.

He walked further into the livingroom and frowned at all the mud and water being tracked over the carpet. _Natalie isn't going to like this! _he thought absently. He watched Officer Ford pick up her coffee mug from the floor and bag it as evidence. He knelt and stared at the brown stain that was only partially absorbed into the rug. "They haven't been gone long," he said aloud. "Make sure and rush the lab test on the coffee."

"You think he drugged her?" the officer asked.

"That's exactly what I think? There's no way Nat would go quietly, which means she was incapacitated."

"He could have knocked her out." Ford winced, when his boss pinned him with a cold, hard stare. "Sorry," he muttered, feeling like an idiot.

Bo looked at the carpet again. "I don't think so, there's no sign of struggle at all. No blood, just the coffee spill." His head shot up and he looked down the hall, toward the front door. He heard him, before he saw him. "Ford, get to it and then help outside. I want to know how the bastard got in here, and how he left?" McBain pushed through the door with Hodges on his heels. Bo saw him peer into the bedroom before making his way closer.

John was having a hard time now. He had pulled up to the house and saw cop cruisers parked on the street, in the driveway, and even on the lawn. He yelled at the nearest man, demanding answers, but the boy only shrugged so he practically ran to the door. She wasn't in her bedroom, and then he saw Bo kneeling on the floor and his heart stopped beating completely. _Please, not again? _he silently begged, while walking closer. The livingroom was empty, and there was no Natalie, no body. He let himself breathe and looked at the Commissioner, still silent and waiting. The older man stood from the ground and met his questioning gaze, but shook his head. John felt his fear grip him again. She was gone. He was too late, and Jarod had her. He closed his eyes tightly and dropped his head for a moment, needing to pull himself together. She wasn't here, but she wasn't dead. He knew she wasn't dead. So he would find her. Taking a deep breath, he looked back at his friend. "Tell me."

"Jerry got a message over the police radio, so we got here as soon as we could." McBain stiffened, twisting his body slightly toward Hodges, who was beside him. "We had to break in. Everything was sealed tight. No struggle, no blood."

John looked at the stain in the carpet. "He drugged her."

Bo nodded. "It's running through the lab now, but...yeah. We still don't know how he got in or out?"

Stepping away and moving toward the couch, John scanned the room again. Everything was how he remembered it - garden picture on the wall, and angel drawing on the table. Tv set, stereo, computer.

"I can smell the smoke from here, McBain. Your wheels are turning again." Jerry and Bo both approached him tentatively.

He walked back to the bedroom and scanned the surroundings, ignoring the tightness in his stomach. Her blouse was on the floor and her bed was unmade. The bathroom door was open, and everything looked normal. Then he walked out and toured the kitchen. Nothing out of place here either.

"McBain? What are you doing?" Hodges was growing impatient.

John walked into the livingroom and looked at it again. "There's something I'm not seeing?" he said quietly.

"You're not the only one!" Jerry snapped.

Bo moved to stand beside him. "What are you looking for John?" The young man turned and stared at him with a quiet intensity.

"A message. He left me a message here somewhere?"

Hodges put his hands on his hips. "How do you know that? You can't possibly know that for sure? Maybe the message is that he took Natalie?"

John shook his head, getting angry. "No, damn it! I mean, yes, that was a message. He wants me to come and get him, but he hasn't told me how?"

Bo frowned, beginning to share Jerry's skepticism. "You think he left an address or something for you?"

"No. He's not that literal, but there's something that will point me in the right direction?" He sighed and flopped onto the piece of furniture in frustration. "He probably sat here and waited for her, the son of a bitch!" John rested his head against the back of the couch and stared at the white ceiling. He was aggrivated. Natalie was in trouble and absolutely nothing was coming to him that could help him find her. He winced slightly, feeling the onset of a headache. "Think McBain," he scolded, not caring anymore what anyone thought about his behavior.

"John," Bo began, "maybe we just need to take a step back? I'm betting that your head is spinning like mine."

"Spinning!" John repeated, standing slowly. He went to the wall and flipped on the ceiling fan. It picked up speed and small pieces of wood flew around the room like projectiles. He shut off the fan and watched Hodges pick up one of the pieces. "It's a scrabble piece."

"They're all scrabble pieces." Bo picked up square after square from around the room.

John swallowed. "How many pieces are there?"

All three men took several minutes scouring the room. When they were sure they got them all, they added them up. "I count 100 pieces," Bo answered, not understanding. "Why?"

John swallowed again. _100 pieces in a set! _His chest felt tight. "I know where they are?" He turned suddenly, ready to bolt for the door, but was stopped dead in his tracks. He turned to find Bo's hand gripping his arm tightly.

"You're not going alone."

Hodges strode forward, insinuating himself between John and the hallway. "You're definitely not going alone," he agreed, supporting his friend.

John pulled from the man's grip and scowled. "Get out of my way." He didn't have time for this, and neither did Natalie. "Let me do my job, damn it!" His anger was swiftly rising and taking control.

Bo didn't back down. "I can't do that John. I love my niece, but you can't do this alone." Judging by the blatant anger in the agent's eyes, he wasn't interested in reason or logic. "He can't get away again, and Natalie wouldn't want that." His voice was clipped, and he continued to press the matter. "Do you hear me John? He can't get away again."

John walked from the men, needing to think, needing air. He was furious, but he also knew that he wasn't the only one who cared about Natalie Buchanan. He turned back to their expectant stares. "I'm not saying..." he paused, trying to articulate his thoughts. "I'm not saying, _go alone, _I'm saying, _go quietly."_ He watched their eyes widen as they realized what he was telling them. "He can't know that anyone is there."

Bo nodded.

Jerry stood his ground. "I have a question for you?" John stared, waiting. "Where _exactly _are they?"

* * *

><p>Natalie tried to open her eyes. A searing bolt of pain shot through her head from the effort, but she tried again and was met with success. She blinked a couple of times and then looked at her watch, squinting until it was in focus. Her head still hurt, but she could deal with that. First she had to get her bearings. She was on the floor she realized, but not in her livingroom. This was cold tile, not carpet, and it smelled different here. She rolled slightly, shifting to her back for a moment, before turning her head in the other direction. Jarod was seated about ten feet from her, and he had a warm smile plastered across his face. Her gun was in hand, but he held it loosely. The barrel was currently pointing at his feet. "Where are we?" she croaked. Her throat felt very dry.<p>

"Wakey, wakey, detective," he sing-songed. "You know, I was beginning to get worried. You were out for awhile." She didn't say anything, so he shrugged. "Alright. We're at the beginning."

Natalie frowned, and rolled onto her stomach. It took all her strength, but she pushed herself off the tile and into a sitting position. Her stomach twisted violently, and she thought she was going to be sick.

"Easy," Jarod advised, from his wooden chair. He got up and walked to a nearby water cooler, pouring her a paper cone cup full of liquid. Then he came closer, kneeling alongside her. "You should drink this, it'll help flush the drug from your system." She took it with a shaky hand, and promptly tossed it in his face. He grinned widely before grabbing her hair roughly. "You're making a mess, Natalie. Don't do that again." His lips were smiling, but his tone was anything but carefree. She heard the threat loud and clear.

His grip tightened slightly, causing her to wince. "I don't respond well to being drugged against my will, Jarod," she replied, breathlessly. "Can't blame a girl for that?"

He stared a moment longer, and then chuckled, releasing his hold. "No, I guess I can't?" He walked back to the cooler and got her another cup of water. He handed it to her and waited, but this time she drank it and thanked him so he went back to his chair. "You're welcome. What are friends for, right?"

A wave of dizziness swept over her, and she put her face in her hands for a minute.

"It'll pass," he encouraged.

She looked up at him. "Can I get up?"

"Well, I wouldn't try standing for a few more minutes anyway, but you can have a seat." He got up and removed a wooden chair from a table and set it down beside her. "Need help?"

She glared at him. "I've got it!" she snapped, feeling her stomach roll again. She took the seat and quickly glanced around the room. "So, you said the beginning. Why is this the beginning?"

"Uh-uh. We're missing someone vital, don't you think?" He met her stare, looking very comfortable and very in control.

Natalie sneered. "John's in Port Place. We're going to have a long wait."

Jarod laughed. "Stop trying to control the situation, detective. You can't. You won't. I've been waiting a long time for this, and believe me, I'm ready for it." She swallowed and turned her eyes from his, and he smiled. "It'll be okay, Natalie."

"I don't see how, Jarod?"

"I know, but you will."

* * *

><p>John stood in the dark hallway for a second, trying to do what had to be done to get through this, and to get Natalie through this. He had to hide behind that wall that normally shielded his heart from the horror. The problem was, that wall was almost gone now. He could feel it. She had somehow managed to dismantle his defenses and that was terrifying, but never more terrifying than right now, when he needed to pull himself together long enough to end this drama. Nervously, he reached for the handle, feeling his heart slamming in his chest. He took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes, willing a calm to take hold of his senses. Then he opened the door and stepped inside the classroom.<p>

The lights came on, and he winced, temporarily blinded by the white florescent bulbs. When he was able to see again, she was there, and he felt his heart beat in a steady pitter-pat. She was alive. Jarod sat behind the teacher's desk with his legs crossed comfortably across the piece of furniture.

"Hey John! Come in, we've been waiting." He lowered his legs, keeping the gun visible on the countertop. He grabbed Natalie's chair, wheeling her closer. His mouth was by her ear. "Shut the door," he instructed, feeling glee when his instructions were met. "Take a seat, won't you? Join us."

McBain tore his eyes away from Natalie, long enough to take the nearest seat and then focus his attention on the man with the gun. "So, Hamilton? I'm here." His eyes narrowed. "Now what?"

Jarod grabbed a strand of red hair and rubbed it gingerly between his fingers. He met the piercing blue eyes across the room and grinned. "So many options, so little time." Then he kissed Natalie on the cheek and leaned forward onto the desk, resting a hand over the weapon. "Don't worry, agent. I'll think of something?" His grin widened.


	34. Chapter 34

Hang on, everyone! It gets a bit bumpy. :)

* * *

><p>Kismet pt. 34<p>

"It was the wrong move, Jerr." Bo stared at the security monitor anxiously. "What the hell was I thinking?"

A hand rested on his shoulder. "You were thinking about Natalie." He watched his friend stand and face him. "You were thinking that this was the best way to get her out of this in one piece. And you would be right."

Bo sighed and turned back to the screen. The school was quiet. The hallways and offices were empty, but the building wasn't. They were inside somewhere? "Why couldn't there be a damn camera in the classrooms," he sat again, "and why didn't I make McBain wear a wire?"

"You know why, damn it! Stop wallowing."

Bo stood, and felt his anger rise swiftly to the surface. "You insufferable ass!" Jerry stood across from him, saying nothing. He felt the tension begin to leave him as quickly as it came. "They teach sensitivity training at Quantico?" He smiled softly and ran a hand through his hair.

Jerry returned his grin, and turned when the door to the campus security office swung open. "It's about damn time."

Sandler and Sam joined them, both sopping wet from the rain. "Give me a break!" Sandler replied, impatiently. "It's insane out there. This storm is brutal. We got here as soon as we could."

They walked closer. "What's going on? Is John inside?"

"He's in," Bo answered. On the screen, everyone watched as a team of officers scattered the grounds, fanning out. Bo felt fear. "He's in, but we're blind out here."

* * *

><p>"I'm nervous. Are you nervous?" Jarod asked, standing from his chair and bringing the gun with him. He kept his eyes on the agent across the room, and quickly tore the duct tape from his guest's mouth. "What about you, detective?" He walked around her chair and sat casually against the front of the desk.<p>

John watched Natalie wince and lick her lips, grateful to have the tape removed. He felt an overwhelming urge to slam his fist into Hamilton's face, but the weapon in his hand was a strong deterent. He bit his lower lip, holding in the verbal commentary that wanted out. He would be smart so that Natalie could walk out of here. He would wait for an opportunity to present itself. For now, Jarod was running the show.

"Oh come on, John? I know you're typically taciturn, but this will be a very boring conversation if I'm the only one talking." The lightness of his tone was replaced with a menacing calm. "You don't want me to get bored."

Swallowing, McBain glanced at Natalie who was squirming slightly. She was trying to free herself from the rope that was securely capturing her. He turned back to Jarod, focussing on him and only him. "Why don't you tell me how you want this to play out?"

He chuckled lightly. "We're all friends here. Colleagues. How about a little conversation?"

John leaned against his chair. "You want to shoot the breeze with me? We could have done that without anyone dying." He watched him stand from the desk and slowly make his way back to Natalie, and his heart pounded.

"You wouldn't be trying to piss me off would you?" Jarod asked playfully. "Like you did with Haver? You'd be wasting your time."

Natalie laughed, and both men looked at her. "Please? Just talk to him for a few minutes." Jarod laughed too. She stared up at her former friend with wide pleading eyes. "Jarod? Why not untie me? You said yourself, we're all friends right?"

He leaned closer to her and smiled, pointing the gun at John. "You're sounding a little desperate Natalie. That's not very attractive." He sat and pulled her chair over, keeping his mouth a breath away from her cheek. "We've been friends a long time, you and I. I would hate to think that you'd use that to try and talk me down like some perp." He cocked the gun, feeling the emotion from McBain all the way over here. He pressed his lips against her ear. "You wouldn't be trying to seduce me, would you detective?"

Natalie could barely breathe. She thought that she had an opportunity to get to him, but realized the mistake instantly. It was a mistake to think that she ever knew him at all. He wasn't the Jarod she knew all these years. Hell, he didn't even exist! Jarod Hamilton was a false name on a piece of paper, and now this man, this stranger, was taunting her and holding a loaded gun on John. She swallowed, afraid to answer his question, so she just shook her head.

John was on the verge of losing it. He repeated his own words in his head like a mantra. _Stay calm, be smart! _The problem was that she was sitting ten feet away and he didn't think he could keep his control for much longer. He never seemed to have any control at all when it came to her. "Jarod." His eyes narrowed as his adversary finally looked his way. He hesitated a moment longer, terrified that if he pushed, things would spiral like they had before with Haver and Caitlyn. He was afraid because he wouldn't survive it again, but then he looked into the man's cold eyes and his anger came rushing forward. "If you touch her, it'll be the last thing you do in your pathetic little life."

A wide, satisfied grin spread across Jarod's face. He could barely contain his excitement. "Now we're getting somewhere?" He leaned on the desk, staring at the agent head on. "Let's talk about our redhead. That's a conversation starter, don't you think?"

"Why don't you let her go? This is about me right? About Caitlyn?" He started to remove his wet jacket, stopping when the man tensed for a second. Then he slowly continued, tossing it to the floor. His t-shirt was wet too, but he felt less restricted.

"Tell me about Natalie." John stared in silence, clearly not willing to offer any information. "She smells good doesn't she? I bet she feels good too." He watched the agent stiffen, but manage to keep his composure. Jarod laid the gun on the desk and opened the top drawer, removing a large blade with a serated edge. He set that beside the gun, and relished the look of fear that flashed across his nemesis' eyes. "Cat got your tongue, John?"

Natalie was bound tightly. She couldn't seem to loosen the rope no matter which way she moved. She cringed, feeling the red burns around her sore wrists. She kept trying. She had to keep trying. Then she inadvertantly held her breath at the sight of the knife. Her eyes widened, and she looked at John. She saw his fear for a split second, before his defenses were back up, but she wasn't as good at hiding her feelings. "You son of a bitch!" she spat, angrier than she ever remembered being. "Is that the knife you used?"

"Natalie!" John stood from his chair. "Shut up!" He watched her staring at him and it took every ounce of strength not to run to her. "Shut your mouth!" A tear slipped over her cheek, but she took deep breaths and stayed silent.

Jarod was grinning again. "Sticking up for me, John? Thanks buddy." He loosened his grip on the gun that he had grabbed at McBain's sudden movement. He tilted it slightly, and watched his prey slowly take his seat. Then he carefully put it back onto the desk alongside the knife. "So where were we?" He reached out and gently wiped the tear from Natalie's cold skin. He licked the salt from his finger.

"You wanted to know about Natalie."

Jarod stared hard at the agent, very interested in where this night would go. "That's right. I remember now."

John stood and walked the floor slowly, pacing. Careful to keep his distance. Their eyes were on each other the entire time. "What do you want to know?" he asked bravely.

"Everything." Jarod stood too, walking to the front of the desk and sitting comfortably. "That night in your room, what was it like with her?" He saw him stop and stare, and if looks could kill he would be dead. "Who seduced who? She's vivacious, isn't she? Tell me everything John." He licked his lips. "Tell me!" he shouted, growing impatient.

John grinned. "You are a sick one, aren't you?" He walked closer, and stared at Natalie. "Yeah, she's something else!" His eyes pierced hers. "Hot. Very hot. You couldn't handle her." He turned to the psycho and waited.

Hamilton grinned again, amused by this little game. "When I talked to her on the phone, she didn't want to leave you. Things must have gone well?" John nodded. "What does she taste like?"

John licked his lips. His muscles were so tight, he thought they would snap like a taut rubber band. "She tastes sweet. She tastes good." He looked at her again, and could see her still trying to free herself. "She tastes like heaven. But why do you want to know, Jarod?" He needed to rattle him so that he could get closer. "That shouldn't matter to you. You get off by strangling women, not having sex with them." He continued to stare hard at the man. "Well, the live ones anyway."

Jarod spun over the desk and stood behind Natalie, petting her silky hair. She groaned at his touch, but bit her lip, keeping quiet. "Is she loud, John?" he asked, resting his hands on her shoulders. He bent slightly, resting his chin on the top of her head. "I bet she's a moaner?"

John continued to stare the man down, even though he felt as though his legs were going to buckle beneath him. He began to silently pray. "You'd be right about that." His throat was bone dry. "She's extremely vocal once she gets going."

"Ha! I knew it!" Jarod reached out and took the blade in his strong hand, showing it to Natalie. "What about you, Nat? You've been pretty quiet this whole time. Did you enjoy your night with Federal Agent McBain?"

She jerked from his grasp, but didn't bother to answer. This was sick and wrong, and she wasn't going to play. If he was going to cut her throat, then she wouldn't be his puppet anymore. Instead, she looked at John, maybe for the last time?

Jarod blew out an irritated breath. "I can see that you two need a moment before this goes any further. Otherwise, we're not going to get anywhere." He picked up the gun and slowly moved away from the desk. He sat in the very seat that John had occupied, keeping a watchful eye on the man. "Go ahead. Maybe you can talk some sense into her? She's stubborn."

John frowned, not really trusting the opportunity. In the end though, he couldn't resist it. He inched closer, until he was beside her, but was trying to focus on the gun that was aimed at his heart.

"We don't have all day. I suggest you take advantage of my moment of weakness. Oh, and McBain? Don't bother untying her. She stays put."

"John?" Natalie said, looking at him nervously. He knelt in front of her and stared into her eyes and she felt safe for the first time in a long time. "No matter what happens, don't you let him out of here! Do you hear me?" He smiled and stroked the side of her face with a warm hand. Then he hugged her, placing his mouth beside her ear.

"I want you to do what he tells you to do Nat. Do _you_ hear me?" He pulled back and looked into her green pools again.

"No."

He frowned. "Don't argue with me detective! Not about this." His voice was firm, arrogant. "You do whatever he tells you to do." She stubbornly shook her head. "Damn it Natalie!" He leaned into her again. "We need to stall. Please, for once, just do what I ask? No more arguments." He looked at her a moment longer, and then stood. "So now what?" He turned his attention back to Jarod.

"Now you step away from the lovely Buchanan and we continue our conversation. Things were getting pretty interesting."

John did as he was told, moving across the room while Hamilton did the same. His stomach twisted when Jarod was back beside Natalie, rubbing her hair between his fingers.

Jarod loved the softness of her hair. It was nice. He met McBain's eyes and felt that familiar rage. "Did you orgasm?" he asked, enjoying the fury that the question ignited. He grinned, smelling her. He hadn't been lying when he said that she smelled good. "More importantly, did she?" Now that was a good question. One he definitely wanted to know the answer to.

Natalie's eyes blazed and her heart was thudding against her ribs. "Several times, you pig!" she spat, enraged.

"Why all the questions about sex, Jarod?" John took a step closer. "Is it because you haven't had sex for years, if at all?"

"What are you talking about? I've had sex!" he snapped.

_Gotcha! _John thought, feeling a spark of hope for the first time. "Dead people don't count man. Sorry." He saw the anger begin to creep into his eyes, so he pushed harder. "Tell me something, Hamilton? Are dead girls easier because live ones don't want anything to do with you?" He watched his chest begin to rise with every frantic breath. "Or is it that you just can't get things done, if you know what I mean?"

Jarod was angry. He wanted to take the gun and shoot McBain once and for all. He wanted to feel the knife in his hand while it plunged into his chest over and over again. He shook his head, trying to clear it. If he did that, then it would be over too soon. No, he needed to be smarter. Slipping his hands into Natalie's hair, he pulled slightly and bent down. His face pressed against hers as he watched McBain from over her shoulder. "I told you it was pointless to play me the way you did Haver. But hey, if you want, I'll show you just how successfully I can get things done, John? If you know what I mean?"

John's heart was working overtime. He felt his brief minute of victory slipping away from him, and wanted to scream. He couldn't let that happen, because if he did he may never get another chance. "Who was it, Jarod?" he asked. Hamilton looked at him confused, not understanding the question. "Who was it that abused you when you were a boy?"

He stood, shocked.

"Was it mommy?" John asked, pushing.

"SHUT UP!" he screamed, grabbing the knife so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

Natalie closed her eyes for a second, freezing at the sound of his horrible cry. She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when John quickly shook his head. His eyes were on Jarod.

"Did she touch you, Jarod?"

He slammed his fist on the desk, enraged. "My mother was a saint! She would never hurt me, NEVER, you hear me?" He was leaning on the desk. "Don't talk about things you don't know McBain, or I might just have to make you pay?" John swallowed, but didn't speak. "My mother would never, ever, ever do anything bad like that! If you talk about her again I'm going to slit your girlfriend's throat."

John held up a hand. "Alright," he said calmly.

Jarod stared at the agent and watched him try to get a handle on the situation. It made him more angry. He wasn't the one in control here, and how dare he talk about his mother like that? About her at all? He wasn't good enough to talk about his mother! His anger was growing and he began to pace the floor, staying close to the detective. "You think you can handle me John? That you can figure me out? Let me tell you something! I'm the one holding all the cards."

"You are, I know, I'm sorry." He was unravelling, and John was more than a little nervous. He wasn't putting down the knife. "Let's talk some more? Maybe we could just do that?"

"You want to talk to me?" He was furious. "What should we talk about?" He was pacing again. He felt like a caged animal that just needed out. "About how you took Caitlyn away from me, or how you got her killed? Or maybe we could talk about how you betrayed her with _this_?" He stopped and grabbed Natalie by the hair, yanking her head back.

John felt a fear so overwhelming he didn't know what to do with it? He couldn't feel anything else. He couldn't think. "Jarod...?" he tried to get out more, but couldn't.

Jarod released his grip and Natalie's sobs filled the room. Her fear wrapped around him like a warm blanket, and he stepped back to the desk, picking up the gun. He weighed both weapons in his hands, testing them out, getting a feel for which one he preferred. Then without warning, he lashed out and the glint of the blade flashed.

Natalie blinked a few times, and then looked at John and that's when she knew. She could see it on his face. The bastard had cut her throat.


	35. Chapter 35

Kismet pt.35

The moment was surreal. John was helpless to do anything other than watch as blood poured freely over the white skin of her beautiful neck. _No, not again! _he silently begged. There was an indescribable pain in his chest as he stared into her wide, shocked eyes. He saw the desperation and disbelief behind those green pools, as she breathed deeply, waiting to die. He saw her chest rise and fall. The realization of what happened was beginning to sink in. It heaved with every new intake of air. She was breathing. She could still breathe. He focussed on her throat, and for the first time, felt air begin to seep back into his own lungs. It was a flesh wound. She was cut, but her throat wasn't sliced open. She was alive, and he felt the numbness of his own body begin to burn with a hatred so deep it was staggering.

Jarod leaned on the desk staring hard, pleased with himself. "Pretty good, huh?" He glanced quickly at the wound, and felt pride in his accomplishment. "If I wanted her dead, she'd be dead, but you probably shouldn't talk about my mother anymore." He casually stepped behind Natalie and rested his hands comfortably on her shoulders - as though he had the right, as though she were his. He felt lighter. "You want to kill me, don't you John?" He could see the truth in his words as he looked into the agent's eyes, and he smiled. His rage was dissipating, and found he could focus on what he was doing and why they were all here? "That's alright, I understand."

Natalie continued to breathe, staring at the floorboards beneath her feet. She wasn't dead. She could feel the sharp sting at her throat and the stickiness of the blood that slid down her neck. She closed her eyes, willing her skin to stop crawling from his touch as he stroked her hair from behind. She felt sick. She felt cold, but mostly, she felt anger. Uncontrollable anger. He sliced her throat with a knife and she wanted him to die. "Get your hands off of me, Jarod!" she ordered, slowly lifting her head.

He bent to her ear. "What was that?"

"You heard me. Get your hands off of me. You make me sick." She didn't care that he could bleed her like a pig at a slaughter. She didn't care one bit. She only cared that he was touching her. "Don't TOUCH ME!" she was screaming, unable to hold back anymore. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she was grateful to still feel it beating, but she was also terrified.

After a moment, he moved away from her and took his seat at the desk. "Well, she's still got her fire, hey McBain? That's good." He laughed and put his feet on the desk.

John stared at her, wanting to slap her for risking Jarod's wrath again. He closed his eyes for a split second at her shout, knowing that the tormenting would soon be too much. He needed to end this now, not later. Later would be too late. Then he saw the casual gun wave and took a seat, actually relieved to be giving his shaky legs a rest. He tore his gaze away from Natalie. "You seem more calm." His voice was deep, but it was there. He didn't know how it was still there?

Jarod shrugged. "Did I tell you that I was impressed with how quickly you got here? I really didn't expect you so soon, so it was a nice surprise."

"I was highly motivated."

"Yes," he cooed, turning back to Natalie, "I guess you would be?" He pulled the chair over again, and she tensed up, staring off to the side. "Look at me please?" he asked, earnestly.

She took a breath, and then another, and another. Then finally, she met his eyes.

"I'm sorry." he said, sincerely. "I really never wanted to hurt you. I hope you can believe that? We were good friends once." He watched her process his words, and then slowly smile. He watched her grin widen before she outright laughed. His stomach clenched, and he fought an irresistible urge to squeeze her neck until her life disappeared like a puff of smoke. He pushed her hard and the chair wheeled across the room. His eyes found Johnny boy. "Well, that was rude?"

John was smiling.

"Tell me how you figured out where we were?"

"Does it matter?" John frowned, feeling his adrenaline pumping. Natalie was a fair distance away now. That was good. "I found you, and here we are."

Jarod seemed put-off. "Of course it matters! Everything you've done to get to this point matters, don't you understand that yet?" He had both weapons resting on the desk, and he stood sharply.

John held his breath. He thought he was going to retrieve Natalie, but instead, he took a familiar perch on the desktop. "Honestly, it didn't make any sense to me at first. The scrabble pieces? Not until we counted them." Jarod smiled softly, but wanted more. "There were 100, which is the amount in a complete game. I knew that you were in the scrabble club with Caitlyn, so to get back to the beginning we would have to start here."

Jarod hopped to the floor, and leaned forward on the closest table in front of him. "Go on," he encouraged, happily.

"You weren't about to get Natalie all the way to Brown University, so Llanview University would have to do, as far as substitutes go."

"That's pretty good, John?"

"You sound surprised." He turned slightly, freeing his legs from the confines of the table.

"I am, actually." Jarod continued to stare.

"That I figured it out, or that I'm here at all?" He watched Hamilton laugh lightly.

"Both."

John swallowed, steeling himself for what was coming. "The girl in Port Place?"

"Yes?"

"She wasn't killed there, was she?" He saw the look of unadulterated joy. "How long ago did you kill her?"

Jarod stood and clapped. He was excited now. "Oh man, this is more fun than I thought it would be." He leaned onto the table again. "She's been dead for almost four days now."

John nodded, finally understanding. "You froze her. That's why she was so cold to the touch. What did you use to transport her? An ice cream truck, or grocery delivery vehicle or something?"

Hamilton laughed. "Actually...I stole the medical examiner's truck, or I guess I should say _borrowed _since technically I'm still employed by the LPD."

John chuckled, and shook his head in disbelief. "You had all of us scrambling, didn't you? That's pretty good, Jarod. I have to admit, you are good."

"Thank you." Their eyes collided.

"Now, let's talk about Caitlyn?" John suggested, firmly. He needed to know all of it. "That picture you left on the dead girl? You took it, didn't you?"

He pushed off from the table, and crossed his arms over his chest. "She looked incredible that day. Perfect."

John's stomach twisted. "Well, she was a beautiful girl." He saw the jealousy flash across his captors features for a moment. "She looked happy in the picture."

"She _WAS _happy, that's the whole point! We were happy." His eyes glazed slightly, remembering. "We would have been so happy."

John quickly glanced at Nat, who was staying very quiet. She was still working on her ropes though. He refocussed on Hamilton. "That was before I knew Caitlyn."

He looked into the blue eyes across from him and frowned. "I know."

John continued to press the issue. "Did you date her Jarod?" That got his attention.

"I LOVED HER!" he boomed, taking a few steps, and then backtracking. He was beginning to pace again. "She didn't have time to realize that we were meant to be, because of you!"

John could feel his blood rushing through his veins. "I don't understand?" he said calmly. "I didn't know her then?"

Jarod stopped walking and leaned on the table again, still staring harshly at the agent. "Try to follow along, John?" he snapped, frustrated. His anger was coming back, but it didn't matter anymore. Soon this would finally be over and John McBain would be dead. "Not then, but about a year and a half later, you stole her."

McBain thought back, and slowly realized what must have happened? "The conference in Pheonix," he said quietly.

"The conference," Jarod repeated, bitterly. "We were there," he paused, correcting himself, "or rather the Scrabble Team was there, to play in the championships. We were there to win a damn scrabble trophy!"

John nodded. "I remember that now."

"Well, that's the difference between you and me, John. I never forgot."

John was angry. "That's not the only difference, Jarod."

Hamilton's eyes flashed, and then he began to slowly pace again, keeping his eyes trained on McBain. "Do you know what the irony is in all this?" John shrugged. "I was the one who suggested we pop into the damn lecture." He laughed, but it was an ice cold sound. "That's funny, isn't it?" He stopped and stared. "We were bored, so we snuck into the stupid room and you were on stage spouting off about serial killers and what their motivations were. Now that's funny! You didn't have a clue then, did you, but Haver educated you. He used Caitlyn to do it!"

"I'd say we both learned something, wouldn't you?"

His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, letting his hate flash at the agent. "Don't push me," he warned.

John chuckled. "So that's what this is all about? You never made a move on a girl that you had feelings for, and then went off the deep end when she didn't wait for you?" He was laughing again, and could see the deadly reaction in the man across the room. Still, he pushed. "You murdered innocent girl after innocent girl, because Caitlyn fell in love with me, and _not _you? That's pathetic man."

He stood stiffly from the desk. "You're the pathetic one. You dedicate your life to stopping serial crimes, but stop living your own. Only that didn't prevent you from hopping from bed to bed, did it?" He slammed his fist onto the desk. "You betrayed her. You promised to love her forever, but that's not what happened? Instead, you slept with warm body after warm body, like she didn't even matter? Like she was never a part of your life?"

John's throat felt raw. He didn't look at Natalie, even though he wanted to more than anything. "I loved her you asshole! I was going to marry her, but she died. She died Jarod, do you understand that?" His anger was taking hold as well. "And what about you? You had sex with how many of your dead victims? Isn't that betrayal?"

He stared incredulously. "I had sex with Caitlyn and only Caitlyn," he answered, as though it was obvious. As though he made perfect sense.

McBain felt the knot in his stomach twist like a knife. "You're sick!" he muttered, feeling ill.

Hamilton sneered at his flippant comment. "I'm not sick, I'm true. You wouldn't understand that though. You couldn't. When you were bedding Natalie, were you thinking of Caitlyn?" He didn't wait for an answer, because he already knew. "You say you love her, but you don't understand real love."

"So who taught you real love, Jarod? My money's on daddy." The man froze, wide-eyed. "See, I assumed it was your mom, but it wasn't. It was dad, wasn't it Jarod? He touched you and made you touch him. What kind of things did he make you do to him? For him?" John watched him step back numbly, bumping the desk with the back of his legs. Then he was turning for a weapon, but didn't get the chance to pick one up.

John flew at him, and they both sailed over the desk, landing hard onto the floor and slamming into the wall. He punched him, but their struggle wasn't an easy one. Jarod was strong. He struck back, and McBain felt the connection acutely as a fist hit the side of his head. He saw a hand reach for the gun, and grabbed at his wrist tightly, keeping the nozzle pointing away. The sound of gunfire rang out, and he winced at the noise before finally knocking the weapon from his hand. It fell to the floor and disappeared beneath their writhing bodies. Natalie was shouting, but he couldn't focus on the meaning of her words. Jarod managed to push him to the floorboards, and he saw a flash of light for a second and knew it was the knife. Then the blade was plummeting for his chest, and he sucked in a breath. Another shot rang out, and Hamilton fell off of him, curling up beside him.

John lay there for a moment, blinking. He pushed the weapons from Jarod's reach, and turned, rising from the floor onto his knees. He kept his eyes on the man who was huddled tightly, bleeding from his shoulder. Sandler stepped past him and handcuffed him roughly. John blinked again, standing and breathing. He turned and found Bo nodding in his direction before walking toward Natalie.

It was over. It was finally, really over. He watched cops flood the room, and then slowly spun until he found a pair of startling green eyes. He watched her stand, released from her confines, and walk toward him.

Natalie was crying. She couldn't remember the last time she let herself be vulnerable in front of anyone, but right now it didn't matter. John was safe and alive, and she let the tears flow freely over her cold cheeks. When she reached him, she stopped, seeing the exhaustion in his eyes. It was over. Then she took his hand in hers and silently led him from the room.


	36. Chapter 36

Kismet pt.36

John sat in the Commissioner's office in silence, staring at the man behind the desk. He quickly turned to glance at the door, before refocussing on Bo Buchanan.

"We don't have to do this now John," he said, seeing the anxiety that the agent was trying to hide. "Jarod's not going anywhere. Why don't you get some rest and we'll talk in the morning?"

McBain shook his head. "No. Thanks, but I want to get this done. I don't want anything slowing down the conviction process on this son of a bitch!" Bo nodded his understanding. "So, at the University..." He began to tell him everything that happened once he entered the room and found Natalie held hostage and Hamilton waiting for him. Sandler sat silently in the room, listening as well, and John could feel his stomach tighten all over again as he recapped the events of the evening. He remembered everything with perfect clarity. When he was done both men were staring, but saying nothing. He quickly glanced at the door again.

"She's fine John," Bo said, continuing to stare.

John squirmed, not liking that he was readable when it came to Detective Buchanan. "Is someone looking at her throat?"

"Not just someone," Sandler answered, nodding toward the door at last.

He turned and saw his brother walk into the office. He looked pissed. John stood. "What?" he snapped, suddenly worried.

Michael held up his hand. "Relax, man. She's fine. In fact, she's better than she should be given the circumstances."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, I'm fine, so everyone stop worrying about me." Natalie stepped into the room, seeing the look of relief on McBain's face before she dropped her eyes. She absently touched the bandage that covered the cut on her neck. "Has he been booked yet?" she asked, focussing on the business at hand.

"They're bringing him in now," Bo answered, walking over to her and giving her a quick hug. He looked into her eyes. "How you holding up?"

She blew out a breath and smiled. "You're not going to make me say it again, are you?" He chuckled, and then shut the door. She took a seat on the couch beside Sandler, carefully avoiding the intense pair of blue eyes in the room. Now was not the time to deal with John McBain.

John let his eyes run over her, noting that she had changed clothes. It made sense. The station was hardly the place for a detective to be in her pajamas. He frowned as his gaze rested on her bandage. She wasn't looking at him. He swallowed.

Bo returned to his desk. "His gunshot wound is patched up, and he's on his way." He stopped talking, staring toward his door. "In fact he's here."

Everyone turned around, everyone but Natalie. She was afraid too. Not because she was afraid of him, but because she was afraid of herself. She still wanted him dead. Slowly she looked, seeing Sam drag him into the squad room and toss him roughly into a chair. Jarod laughed, and she felt her rage consume her all over again. She stood and walked out of the office and over to him, and then she punched him in the face.

"Natalie!" Hodges yelled, grabbing her.

She pushed him and punched Jarod again, wanting to pound his face in. She felt a familiar pair of hands on her hips and then she was yanked across the room. "He should be dead!" she shouted, staring at his smug, bleeding face. He was still laughing.

"That's enough!" John ordered, shaking her until she looked at him. His eyes bore into her. "It's over, Natalie." He saw her eyes widen, and glance around the room quickly. She was embarassed, and he watched her walk to her office and slam the door. Then he steeled himself and walked over to the prisoner. He sat across from him, staring hard. "How are those cuffs? Too tight?"

* * *

><p>Natalie paced her office, trying to simmer down. She wasn't used to losing control, and now that's all she seemed to do. It was frustrating and embarassing and terrifying. She spun sharply as her door opened, and let herself breathe when Michael McBain strolled in. "Sorry," she said quickly, "I guess I'm a little on edge?"<p>

He smiled. "No kidding?" She smiled too. "I get it Nat. Everyone gets it. It's okay."

"No it's not!" she snapped, angry again. "It's not okay, Michael. I'm a police officer, damn it! I've seen horrible things on this job. I should be more professional."

He frowned and stepped closer. "Are you joking? Natalie, you're human. This guy tried to kill both you and John, and he did it less than two hours ago. Of course it's okay to be upset!"

She took a breath. "John's not." He laughed, and that pissed her off.

"You know better than that," he chastised.

And she did. "Alright, he's upset, but he doesn't look upset. How the hell does he do that?"

Michael shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know? John's always been exceptional at hiding his feelings, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have them. Especially when it comes to you."

She swallowed, nervously. "You haven't seen him in years. How do you know?"

"I know my brother."

He walked up to her and hugged her and she let him. In fact, it felt good. He was a good friend when his mouth didn't get in the way. "Thanks, Mike."

"Anytime."

* * *

><p>Jarod felt the blood from his nose drip down his chin. "She seems a little upset, John." He smiled. "Nothing I did, I hope?"<p>

"You don't have that kind of power."

"No? I bet our redhead would disagree." John stared, saying nothing. "Or maybe I'm not what's bothering her at all? Maybe, you're what's bothering her? She probably wasn't too thrilled to hear some of the truths about John McBain."

This time John chuckled. "You're still so sad, but it doesn't matter anymore, Jarod. We're going to lock you away in a tiny box somewhere, and no one is going to care that you're gone. No one. Not your vicims, or myself...not Caitlyn." He leaned closer, watching his face turn red. "Not mommy or daddy."

Jarod sprang off the chair, enraged. He barely got a foot closer to McBain though, because two sets of hands yanked him back into the seat with force. A couple uniforms held him tightly, and he wanted to cut off their hands. "You SHUT UP!" he cried, struggling against his oppressers.

John laughed, looking very comfortable in his chair. "You lose," he said, meeting the furious eyes across from him.

Bo had enough. "Lock him up," he ordered. His men grabbed him, leading him from the room.

He was still screaming. "You're dead, McBain! It's your fault! It's all your fault!"

John stayed in his seat and ran a hand over his face.

Sandler took Hamilton's chair. "I'm sorry man," he said and smiled, "you do attract the nuts, don't you?"

McBain smiled back, before turning toward the hall. Natalie walked into the squad. She seemed more collected, and he didn't know why, but that made him more nervous.

She looked at her uncle. "I'm going home," she said, matter-of-factly. "And no bodyguards or escorts. He's caught, and now I want my life back." He stared at her, not wanting to let her go by herself, but then nodded. "Besides, I won't be alone," she confessed awkwardly. She couldn't look at McBain, but she knew that everything would be okay. Then she grabbed her purse and jacket and said good night to everyone. She left the building and stood in the parking lot, just breathing.

John rose, and rubbed his neck. He was so tired. "Hodges, I'm taking the night off," he instructed, firmly. The older man actually grinned. Then he shook his friend's collective hands. "Good night, gentlemen." He nodded at his brother, who was leaning against the wall, and then grabbed his coat and went to catch up to Natalie. She was waiting for him near the front door. She didn't say anything, she just looked at him. They walked to his car and he unlocked the passenger side, letting her in. He glanced at the sky. The rain had stopped, for now anyway. Then he got behind the wheel and drove for home.


	37. Chapter 37

Warning: this will probably make you blush?

Kismet pt.37

John eased the car into the driveway and put it in park. The entire ride was done in silence. Natalie wasn't talking, but he wasn't going to push her. Truthfully, he was afraid of what she would say when she finally did speak. Hamilton said a lot of things tonight, and she had heard them all - about Caitlyn and his love for her, and about others. For lack of a better word, his sexcapades with other women. She almost died simply because she had gotten involved with him, and he wasn't sure what to expect from her? He wasn't sure if he should be here with her now? The sound of the car door slamming, snapped him out of his head. He watched her go to the door and open it. She paused long enough to look his way, before disappearing inside. He took a deep breath and got out of the car. Then he went inside and locked the door behind him.

Her bedroom light was on, but she wasn't there. Her purse was tossed onto the floor without a care. He sauntered down the hallway and found her standing near the familiar red couch. Her back was to him. He stopped, waiting, barely breathing, and when she turned, his heart ached. Her eyes were watery and full of need. She launched herself at him and he held her tightly, thankful to be able to hold her again. She was pressed so closely, and he could feel the heat of her breath against his shoulder. Then she was kissing him and making her way to his mouth. He felt as desperate as she did, before claiming her lips possessively.

She pulled away, wrapping her arms around his neck and putting her lips to his ear. "Please, John?" she breathed, "I need this. I need you." Her hands made quick work of his shirt, ripping through the buttons and touching the light hair over hard muscle.

He closed his eyes and struggled with his next breath. She was kissing his chest, wetting his skin with her hot tongue and then she was pulling the material off his shoulders and down his arms. John was beyond aroused. She felt so good against him, touching him. He wanted her so badly. He opened his eyes and slipped his hands into her fiery hair as she undid his belt. Her fingers fumbled with his jeans, but managed to open them and slip her warm hand inside. He sighed, ready to explode as he kissed the top of her head. "Natalie?" he said, forcing her eyes higher. His voice was hoarse. She blinked a few times, and removed her hand from his pants before kissing his torso again. He felt her need with every soft touch of her lips, and it ignited a need of his own. Her head sank lower on his body, and he cried out when her mouth found his penis. "Gawwd!" he shouted, wrapping his hands into her hair once again. His head dropped back for a moment, and then he looked down and saw her tugging his clothing over his hips. "Natalie?" he repeated anxiously. He was losing control. She was relentless, and truthfully, he wasn't working very hard at fighting her off. His desperation was as acute as ever. Her tongue licked his length slowly and deliberately, torturing and seducing as it went. His breathing was clipped and sharp, and his chest was panting under her administrations. He watched her head bobbing up and down, taking him beyond reason, and he fleetingly wondered how this had happened? How had they gotten here? She kissed the tip and then carefully eased her lips over his sensitive skin, swallowing him whole. "Slow down..." he whispered, losing his voice. "Natalie?" This time he was more forceful and he tugged her hair, yanking her off of him. He pulled her to her feet, holding her head with his hands and staring hard. He wanted her more than anything, ever, but he was concerned.

She swallowed, and lifted her delicate hands to his face, staring back with equal intensity. "Don't look so worried. I don't break, remember?" He held his ground, studying her closely, and she touched his lips with her fingers. "I just want to lose myself in you, John. Can you let me do that?"

Her voice was pleading, but he wasn't convinced. His desire was threatening to cloud his judgement, and he just wanted to do the right thing for her only he didn't know what that was?

"I'm really good at taking care of myself, McBain. It'll take more than Jarod Hamilton to crush me." She stepped closer, lightly kissing the skin under his chin. "Trust me," she breathed softly.

He realized he did, and that he was too weak to fight her. He wanted her, and right or wrong he was going to have her. Then she slid downward and kissed his stomach while stroking him with her determined hand, continuing her sweet torment. She grabbed his hands and pulled him to the floor. He let her. He found himself on his knees, staring at the most beautiful sight in the world. She flashed a quick smile and then assaulted his lips.

Natalie felt him respond with a fierceness of his own, and groaned into his mouth as his hands slipped under her shirt. He squeezed her breasts, kneading them and stroking her nipples with his thumbs. She was growing dizzy from his tongue, which swept her mouth again and again, taking her to new heights of ecstasy. _God, this man can kiss! _she thought briefly, before tearing herself from him and pushing him back onto the floor. She quickly followed, climbing up his hard body and sinking into his hot kiss again. His hands were tangled in her hair and forcing a closeness, and then they were lowering, grabbing her ass and pushing her onto his erection. They both moaned into each other's mouths at the searing contact. More desperate than she ever remembered being, she slid along his body until she was between his legs, and took him with her wet mouth. She wanted to give him this, so she persisted, tasting him. His hands were still in her hair, and she smiled against his penis, loving it when he did that. His breath was loud and hampered and filling her ears, but she kept up her efforts. She opened wider, sliding over his stimulated cock, pushing farther than she has before - until she could feel him touching the back of her throat. Then she pulled back in time to hear his cry. He began to spill into her.

John was hard. He throbbed, and knew that he was so close to bliss but tried to hold on longer. The sweet torture that she was inflicting was like nothing he has ever felt before, and he was torn. He wanted to get to where he needed to be, but at the same time, didn't want it to ever end. She was driving him crazy with every flick of her hot tongue. Then she glided smoothly over him again, sinking further along his length, pulling him deeper into her warmth. "aaahh..." A sound escaped his throat. He held his breath when he felt the tightness of her throat over his tip. It was too much. "Natalie...God..aaaaAAAAHHHH!" he cried, as his hips shot off of the carpet. He felt himself erupt, filling her as he orgasmed into the deep heat of her throat. She was still clamped onto him, milking him with her tongue and lips.

John's awareness was slow to return. He felt the carpet first, gripped securely in his palms, and then he sank back to the ground, conscious of the rug on his bare ass. Natalie was still between his legs, and he stared at the ceiling, trying to slow his heartbeat. His limbs felt numb. _He_ felt numb. His brain was only now starting to work, and he took slow deep breaths into his lungs. He could feel her slowly gliding over his buzzing skin, taking her time while she bathed him. He continued to breathe. Breathing was the key. Eventually, she released him and lay against him, resting her chin gently on his stomach. She was staring, he knew, but he wasn't quite able to move yet. So, she climbed higher until she was looking into his eyes. He stared back, and lifted his arms, pulling her shirt and tank top over her head to reveal her naked breasts. He continued to stare, but neither of them spoke. He wrapped a hand around her neck and then over her arms, needing to feel her. She stayed where she was, looking into his soul. He grabbed her breasts and gingerly touched the tips with his fingers before flattening his palms over them. She closed her eyes for a second, but then met his sharp, heated gaze once again. He smiled.

He kept his eyes locked with hers, and stretched lower, undoing her belt and then her jeans. He pushed them over her rounded hips, and she helped, until her pants were at their feet. His hands slipped beneath the tiny elastic of her underwear and grabbed her ass, lowering her against his body. She sank down, still staring into his eyes, and he felt the warmth of her breath on his lips. She was closer, just like she should be. His hands slid higher, along her lower back and then up to her shoulder blades. She was the one breathing heavily now, and he smiled wider. He cupped the bottom of a breast and slipped a hand under the elastic again. She sighed aloud when he cupped her between her legs and began to touch her with his eager fingers. Still, she kept her eyes on his, but they were glazing over with a renewed passion. John licked his lips and pushed a finger into her body.

"Aah!" she moaned, licking her lips and squirming slightly against him. She could feel herself beginning to unravel. Soon nothing but his touch would matter.

John could feel the familiar sound of blood rushing in his ears, and knew what the tightness in his lower body signified. He pushed another finger inside her, and reacted to her cry with a very physical response. She was still locked onto him, staring, and it was the sexiest thing he's ever experienced. Her eyes couldn't hide their passion, and knowing that he was the cause was extremely erotic. He removed his hand and she whimpered against his lips, sending a shiver of delight through every part of him. He tore the silky material from her with one quick motion and sat up. She rested over his thighs and wrapped her arms around his neck. He clutched her hair firmly, and slowly rolled until she was the one with her back pressed into the plush carpet. His heart was pumping wildly again as he stared, not wanting to break contact. He knelt over her and pushed his jeans and underwear down over his legs. They had only been partially removed, and he didn't want a single barrier between them. This moment was theirs.

He ran his hands up and down her legs, staring at the glory of her nakedness. She was like a goddess sprawled on the floor beneath him, wanting him. He winced at the ache that stemmed from his groin. Then he grabbed her hips and forcibly rolled her onto her stomach, kissing his way up her strong legs. She writhed beneath him, sighing, and he continued his ascent. He nipped her cheeks, licking and sucking his way to her tailbone and hips. He heard her whisper his name and slipped his hands under her body, holding her stomach with one hand, while sinking into her curls with the other. She cried out as he slid a finger into her wetness. His lips travelled higher, following the path of her spine and he released his intimate hold again. Breathing was growing difficult. His hands wrapped around, squeezing her breasts before grabbing her arms and lifting them over her head. He kissed her back and neck, and moaned as he sank against her, feeling her ass pressing against his newfound erection. He moved his hips, sliding between her legs.

"Yes, please John?" she begged as he teased her. He slid his swollen, hard penis against her opening, and then withdrew. "No!" she cried, trying to pull him closer.

She was pure fire, and he needed her more than he needed to live at that moment. John kept his hand tangled in her hair and wrapped the other over her stomach. He lifted her from the floor until she was seated in his lap with her back pressed securely against his chest. He placed his mouth to her ear and breathed, and then hoisted her slightly. Just enough to slide into her waiting body. They both shook as she sank lower, enveloping him completely.

Natalie felt his hands in her hair and his chest against her skin, and she knew. She knew what was next? He quickly raised her up, and her entire body trembled with anticipation. Then he was sliding into her wet flesh, and she squeezed her eyes shut, relishing the heat that was spearing her from her center. She instantly began to move, undulating her hips against him with purpose. She knew what she wanted and was going to take it, and so she gripped his hips and strived for the pleasure that was right there...so close.

John felt her move the moment he filled her to the hilt, and he gritted his teeth, letting her take him wherever she wanted? He would give her anything. His mouth was still against her ear, and he sighed into it, pulling her hair tighter as she increased her pace. He was tensing, feeling the pressure build between his legs. The things she did to his body, rocked him to his very core! Her cries were louder now, and she leaned forward, propping herself up with his knees. Her hips were frantic, and their smooth rhythm was becoming jagged and rough. She was close, but so was he. He could feel his balls begin to tighten, and he concentrated, trying to outlast her so that she could have the pleasure that she deserved. It wasn't to be. She slowed for a second and gripped him with her inner muscles and that was it for him. He tugged her hair with one hand and wrapped the other around her exposed throat as he climaxed, crying sharply into her ear.

"JOHN!" she shouted in response. He thrust into her again heatedly, and she tumbled over the edge without mercy. She blinked, staring at the curtains over the window as they blurred under her impaired vision. She violently rocked against him, riding him up and down, and she vaguely heard the slapping sounds of their bodies coming together. Her heart was slamming into her ribs, and she concentrated on his breath at her ear. Her hand rose to cover his, circling her throat. Her scalp was sore from his grip, but she didn't care. It was worth it.

They sat like that for quite awhile. Natalie felt his grip on her hair loosen, and then let go entirely. His hand lowered from her throat, stopping to squeeze a boob before finally resting on her hips. She stretched a hand back and touched the side of his face. He lightly kissed her cheek and she rose, pulling from his body. She turned on her knees and slowly reclaimed her seat on his lap, wrapping her arms around him and staring into his bright blue eyes.

John stared back, feeling the instant pitter-pat of his heart whenever she looked at him. He lightly kissed her and then tilted his head the other way, kissing her again. He lowered his gaze to her sweet mouth, watching her lips part slightly. This time he kissed her deeply, slowly pressing her to the carpet and blanketing her with his tingly body. They broke apart, captivated, and in a little bit of shock as they recovered together. Neither spoke, still not ready to face anything other than right now. He bent and took his time as he explored her mouth. She tasted so damn good. Her legs wound around him and he began to let his hunger take over. For now, they would take what they could from one another. Tomorrow could wait a little longer.


	38. Chapter 38

I like to call this, Hot Angst, because I really don't know what else to call it? LOL Tension level = amped.

* * *

><p>Kismet pt.38<p>

John lay on his side, watching her sleep next to him. Eventually they made it to the bed, though the trip had been an eventful one. She was wild tonight, and he knew it was a reaction to almost dying. She told him that she needed this, him, and those words were true, but he needed her too. So much so that he was beginning to feel a little lost. She took a slow, deep breath and hugged the pillow underneath her head. He ran his eyes over her, smiling. She lay on her stomach, looking very, very comfortable. The bed sheet was low, revealing part of her rounded cheeks to his view. He reached out and pulled it higher, covering her up. Her face was so innocent when she slept, and he had to fight the overwhelming urge to touch her skin. She needed her rest. He needed it too, but couldn't seem to relax. No matter how in tune they were when they made love, something was off? He couldn't put his finger on it, but the anxiety began back at the precinct when she wouldn't look at him. She wanted him with her he knew, but there was something else? It was that mysterious something that was keeping him from the slumber that his body was crying out for.

Natalie turned her head, facing away from him, and he stared at her red hair thoughtfully. He remembered what it felt like in his fingers, on his skin, blanketing the most sensitive part of himself. He blew out a breath, shifting slightly against the hard-on that was concealed beneath the sheet. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, once again lost in his head. _Was Jarod right? _he wondered, frowning. Maybe now that everything was settling down in their universe, she was no longer sure about him? She had heard more than he ever wanted her to about his life - about Caitlyn, and the miriad of other women he has slept with since. He shook his head, and then turned again only to find her wide, green eyes staring at him. She was silent, waiting for him to say something? "I thought you were asleep?"

"I was."

He smiled softly and quickly tucked a strand of her tangled hair back, before dropping it. "You're tired."

She grinned devilishly. "I'm never that tired." Then she reached out and circled his penis with her delicate fingers. She saw his eyes spark at the contact, but he didn't move. She slid a little closer, and kissed his powerful chest. Her tongue played with a nipple. Her body quaked when he sucked in a breath. The sound was wonderful. Then he reached below the thin blanket and put a hand over hers, stilling her motion. She looked up, and felt an uneasiness at his serious expression. "What's wrong?"

He removed her hand so that he could think. "You tell me?" He could see her eyes try to hide the anger that was just under the surface.

"I can't do that John, because there's nothing wrong with me. I know exactly what I want." She resumed her task, a little more determinedly. "You're too tense. I know how to fix that?" she purred, stepping up her pace.

John closed his eyes for a moment. His brain was holding on by a thread and his traitorous body was screaming at him to let go. And he wanted too. He opened his eyes again, pulling her away. "Stop!" he snapped, feeling his anger begin to stir. "Enough Natalie."

She looked at him in shock. "What is this?" she demanded, not enjoying the rejection. "I know that you liked that as much as I did, so what's the problem?" She wanted to slap him.

"We should talk." He watched her slide a little farther across the bed. She met his eyes and there was a sadness in them.

"It's not tomorrow yet," she said quietly.

He needed to press this. "The sun is coming up. That makes it tomorrow." He could see her frustration as she rolled onto her back.

"Why do you have to ruin this? Everything is good right now."

He grabbed her and tugged closer, holding her tightly against him. "They've been better," he answered, his voice firm. He could feel the heat radiating off of her rigid body. She was pissed! "We need to talk Natalie."

She pushed against his chest, trying to free herself. "There's nothing really to say is there?" Her eyes blazed. "The case is over, and we won. End of story." She continued to stare, but he wasn't saying anything. Then she felt, very clearly, how much he wanted her. She softened slightly. "John," her voice implored a little, "let's not waste this time talking?" She kissed the soft skin of his neck, and ran a hand back and forth over his stomach. His breathing was becoming laboured. "Besides," she began, still tucked against his shoulder, "talking has never really been our thing."

He shoved her away, and shot off the bed furiously! He was angry. He didn't care that he was pacing along the foot of the bed, completely naked with an erection. He watched her sit up, confused by his actions, and that made him even more mad. "Why are you doing this?" he shouted, wanting the answer more than anything!

"Me? You're the one freaking out?"

He chuckled and ran a hand over his face. "Is this the part where I'm supposed to believe that this is just sex? That it's always been just sex?" She didn't speak. She stared, and the tension in the room quadrupled. "I've had just sex, Natalie. That's not what this is."

"Oh that's right, you and your women, I'd forgotten." She yanked the sheet high over herself and let her anger out.

He laughed again. "Here's a novel idea. Why don't you tell me the truth? What's really going on here?"

Her eyes narrowed and her voice tightened, cold and bitter. "The truth is we excel at sex, John. We have from the beginning. That's why I threw away a relationship with a man who loved me, and you broke rule after rule. We wanted each other, and frankly, we still do. That's the truth."

He stopped moving. "Why are you so angry with me?"

She looked away for a minute. "I..." Her throat was dry, and she swallowed. "I'm not angry with you. I'm just angry." He took a breath and crawled back toward her, resting his head against the wall as he looked at her. Her eyes were watery. "I'm sorry, I don't want to fight with you." She ran a hand along the side of his face, needing some sort of contact.

"Maybe...?" He paused, nervously. "Maybe I don't have to leave?"

Her eyes widened, watching him. "What do you mean?"

He swallowed. "You know, the entire time I've worked at the FBI, I've never taken time off? Maybe now would be a good time to do that?" She looked at the mattress, and he waited, feeling more than a little anxious. Then he saw her shake her head.

"I don't think that's a good idea," she said, with confidence. She met his eyes firmly.

"No?"

"No."

There was no mistaking her tone. She was against the idea completely, and he felt his stomach drop.

She continued to stare at him while she spoke. "Another couple of weeks? That just makes it harder." He nodded in silence. "But it's not morning yet?" she said, smiling seductively.

John's heart hurt. He felt the change in her instantly, and heard the flirty tone in her voice. She sank against the mattress and threw the sheet away, revealing herself to him in her entirety. Her eyes studied him, looking so wantan. He slid across and crawled over her, fitting between her legs. Her eyes were pinning him, and he let himself get lost in them as he pushed his way into her body. She grabbed his hair, holding him in place, and he pulled and pushed, focussing on her mouth. Her lips were open as she sucked in air and released moans into the room. _harder...,_ he heard her breathe, and he obliged, pushing her knees apart until they touched the bed. _faster...,_ came another cry. He thrust into her with an urgency that swept them both up. Then she cried out, not making sense, and he tumbled along with her. They lay as they were, him on top, pinning her with his weight. Her, tangled around and still feeling him deep inside. Their bodies eventually cooled and began to breathe evenly, when he finally lifted himself, staring into her eyes. "You're right, we do excel at that."

She laughed as he left her, laying beside her on his back. "That's what I'm saying?" She smiled and closed her eyes.

* * *

><p>Several minutes passed in total silence. Neither spoke, or looked, or touched. They were lost in their own thoughts.<p>

John was tense. He stared at the ceiling, trying to shake his anxiety but it was still there. It was tugging at him, much like her words were. _...that's why I threw away a relationship with a man who loved me..._ What had she meant by that? Finally, he sat up and slid to the end of the bed, continuing to not look her way. "What did you mean when you mentioned Chris?" he asked, feeling a whole new kind of fear.

She sat up and watched him. "Just what I said, what do you mean?"

He absently played with the sheet. "I mean...Well, I'm wondering..." His words trailed off. He turned around and faced her. "Do you regret this?" She looked surprised that he asked, but she also looked nervous.

"How can you ask me that?"

"Oh, I don't know Natalie? Maybe because you brought it up in the first place? Or maybe because you have been pulling away from me for sometime now?" There was his anger again. How did she do that?

"I'm not the one leaving, John? That would be you."

He stood. "You're deliberately trying to piss me off! Why?"

She shook her head in disbelief, lowering her gaze again. "Your ego is astounding sometimes, you know that?" She focussed on the pulse flexing in his jaw. "I'm not the one starting a fight. So who is deliberately pissing off who?"

His eyes narrowed. "Answer the question." She was hiding something, not saying something? He knew it with complete certainty.

"I regret hurting Christian."

"That's it?"

"I don't regret you John. How could I? The sex is too good."

He began to pace, feeling a slow burn. He was furious, all over again. "Ah," he forced a laugh but it was cold and empty, "and here we are back on the merrygoround!" He saw her eyes flash with their own fury. "You keep coming back to the sex."

She got up, bringing the sheet with her. "Alright, you should go." She wanted him out.

"Yeah?"

"I'm not asking, John." Her chest was heavy and her breathing was deep. "Get out!"

"Yeah?" he said again, walking up and grabbing her arms. "You want me to go, Natalie? I know that you do, because you've been slowly pushing for this all night. The question is, why? Why are you trying so hard to run me off? Is it because I'm leaving?" He wanted answers, and wanted to shake them out of her. "Damn you!" he shouted, pushing her just enough to have her sit on the edge of the bed.

Natalie took a determined breath, and then stood, facing him. "You want me to answer your question John?" she asked, raising her voice. "The answer is yes. I do regret you. I regret all of it. I regret that I lost control of my senses for a few nights of passion. I regret that I betrayed Christian. I regret that I let myself care about you at all, because all it's given me is heartache." Her chest was heaving now, but she couldn't stop the words from coming. She had to get them out. She had too. "I almost died last night because I slept with you. I was drugged and tormented." She stepped closer to him. "He had his hands on me, do you get that? All because I slept with you, and now the case is over and you're moving on. Great! Swell! And I understand why, that's the funny part. I get why you have to go, and why you should go? I'm okay with it, but my life is here, and while you're out saving the world from evil I have to deal with the aftermath of Hurricane McBain." She stared hard, not letting herself feel anything, not letting herself cave. "Leave it to you to assume that I'd want you to stay. I know...from the beginning you've been waiting for me to fall head over heels for you, because how could I not, but that's not what happened John? I don't want you to stay!" She took another step forward. "Sure, the sex would be phenomenal, but in the end that _IS_ all this really is." She swallowed, feeling her throat begin to close up. "You leave, but I stay. That's the way it is, only Chris is here and he loves me. I hurt him for you. For nothing really? If he can forgive me, then I'm going to be with him. I want to be with him."

John stared at her in stunned silence. He was feeling so many things right now that it was hard to pin one down. He stared hard, watching, studying. Observing her behavior, her stance, her breathing. "You're lying."

"Ha! Of course, you would think that!" She squared her shoulders and looked at him, right at him, unflinchingly. "I'm not lying, John." There was another pause. "Please leave now. I think we both know that this is over?"

He looked to the floor for a moment and shook his head. Then he walked out and down the hall. His pants were in the livingroom, so he quickly pulled them on and snatched his shirt from the floor. He was out the door before it was on, slamming the door behind him.

Natalie stood frozen, clutching at the sheet that hung loosely over her nakedness. She squeezed her eyes shut as she heard tires squealing on the pavement outside. Her knees were shaking and she sank limply to the carpet, staring blankly at the purse that sat haphazardly on the floor. _Breathe, just breathe! _She swallowed and looked down. The sheet was wet, and she suddenly realized that she was crying. "You can do this," she said aloud, trying to make herself believe it. "You can do this."


	39. Chapter 39

Kismet pt. 39

Natalie walked into the station with two cups of coffee and a muffin. She strolled past the front desk smiling. "Good morning Davis," she said sweetly, before opening her uncle's door to find him on the phone. Things were getting back to normal. She set his breakfast down and left, watching Sandler turn the corner and join her.

"Hey beautiful," he flirted, smiling as he approached. "So...today's the day. You going to miss me?"

She grinned. "You know, I think I may?" She laughed and walked to her office with him following.

"So, where's John?"

She stiffened slightly, thankful that her back was to him. Then she sat behind her desk. "I don't know?"

"He didn't come in with you?"

She wanted to scream, but instead she shook her head, careful to keep her expression blank. "I haven't seen him since early this morning."

He frowned slightly. "Oh? Okay, I'm gonna go make sure that everything is ready for Jarod's transfer." She nodded again and he looked at her a moment longer, feeling uneasy. "See you, Red." He hedged toward the door and left her office.

Natalie blew out a breath and dropped her head. This was going to be harder than she thought, but she could do it. She would do it. Her intercom went off, getting her attention.

"Nat, come in here please?"

She smiled. "Coming," she said into the speaker. She walked to her uncle's office.

When she opened the door, he was talking with Hodges and Sam. She smiled. "Morning." She stepped inside.

"Thanks for the muffin," Bo said, shuffling some papers.

"Yeah, well you never eat in the morning."

Everyone laughed. "I eat," he said simply, grinning as he looked at her. She made a face, showing how much she believed him.

"How's your neck?" Sam asked, noticing that the bandage was gone.

"It's fine. I'm fine. Let's not start worrying about me again?" Her voice was playful, even though she didn't feel that way. Far from it.

More chuckles filled the room. "Well I'm sorry," Sam replied, "but I get that way when my friends are held captive by a raving lunatic."

"I wouldn't worry about it. She can take care of herself." John's voice spoke from the doorway, and he was very conscious of how instantly her back straightened. _Good! _he thought, bitterly.

"You're late McBain," Hodges said, watching his agent enter the room and take a seat next to Natalie. "I'm thinking of buying you a watch."

"Do you want me to tell you what you can do with that watch?" John snapped, in no mood for anyone - especially Hodges!

The light tone of the room changed in an instant. "You alright?" Bo asked, surprised by the attitude coming from the agent. He was pretty together yesterday.

"Fine," he answered, clearly not willing to elaborate.

Bo's eyes went to Natalie, who was quietly staring over his shoulder. In fact, neither one of them were looking at each other. Sandler strolled into the office, and stopped suddenly, obviously picking up on the tension. "Is Jarod ready to go?" Bo asked, trying to get back on track.

"Yeah," he said, apprehensively. He looked around the room and saw the intense expressions on everyone's faces. Everyone's except John and Natalie, who were sitting with their backs to him. "We're good to go." There was an awkward pause.

"So," Hodges said standing, "what are we waiting for?" He shook his friend's hand. "I'll call you."

Bo smiled. "You better."

Sandler walked up and followed suit, shaking Bo's hand. "Well, it was interesting, Commish." He grinned.

"Don't call me Commish," Bo deadpanned. He turned to Sam. "Thanks for everything." The agent nodded. Then he watched the three men head for the door, waiting on McBain.

John stood slowly and offered a weak smile. He shook his hand. "If you need anything...?" He left the sentence hanging out there, and watched the older man nod his appreciation.

"I hope to see you soon."

"That's doubtful," John answered quickly. "I probably won't be back here for awhile?" His eyes dropped and he spotted the coffee cup on the desk, feeling an immediate rage twist his stomach. "That's from the diner," he said aloud, pointing out the obvious.

"Yeah," Bo answered. He frowned, and looked at his niece who rose from her chair.

"Have a safe trip," she said, attempting to leave.

"Hold up!" Bo blurted, wanting to knock both their heads together. Natalie glanced back, and John looked up also. "Just what the hell is going on here?" He stared at his niece, who offered nothing. He turned to the young man across from him. "John?"

McBain looked at a man that he respected tremendously, but that didn't matter, nothing mattered. He stepped closer and leaned onto the desk. "I like you Bo, but I'm only going to say this once. Stay out of it." He watched him process the warning, and turn to Natalie in confusion. Her firm voice filled the room.

"Stay out of it," she repeated.

Bo saw the anger in the blue eyes that were piercing him, and he felt sad. "I'm out," he said, regretfully. Then he watched his friend walk to the door.

John paused when he reached Natalie and stared at her. "Let's move!" he boomed, as she jumped. He walked from the room toward the holding cells without looking back.

She swallowed, and closed her eyes for a minute, and then she went to her office to get to work. She went to her office to hide. She had a life to live and she needed to figure out how to do it?

* * *

><p>John's car pulled into the lot, and he stared at the <em>Visitor Parking <em>sign, not moving. He was originally going to ride with Jarod, but quickly realized what a bad idea that was? Given the mood he was in, he would probably kill the twisted bastard? He sighed and rubbed his eyes, not relishing the drive ahead. He was even less excited about what he was about to do, but knew that it had to get done. Sighing again, he got out and walked toward the looming building. It seemed busier than usual inside, and he silently prayed that that was the case. If it was busy, maybe he would be given an out?

When he got to the third floor, he walked to the administration desk and waited for the woman to get off the phone. Finally, after several excrutiating minutes, she did. "Hi," he said lamely. "I'm looking for..."

"He's looking for me, Gloria," a voice said from behind.

John turned and faced his brother. "Mike." He hesitated, but quickly hugged him.

"You look like crap, John." He didn't say anything, but it was obvious that now was not the time for light banter. "What's eating you? You're pissed about something?"

_Son of a... _How does he do that? John frowned. "I'm leaving Llanview, but I wanted to say good-bye this time." Michael led him to some nearby plastic chairs, and they both took a seat. "Jarod's being transferred, so..."

Mike continued to stare. "Well, now I know why you're so miserable," he swallowed nervously, "is this permanent?"

John didn't look at him right away. "Yeah Mike, it's permanent. I'm heading back to Quantico and my next case." He paused. "It's permanent."

"But what about Natalie?"

"What about her?" he snapped, rising from his seat. "Look, we had fun and now it's over."

Michael didn't speak. He just stared in disbelief. "You had fun," he repeated, slowly.

"That's right."

"Wow, same 'ol Johnny!"

He ran a hand roughly through his hair. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Michael stood. "You're running. Everytime you get too close to anyone, you run with your tail between your legs."

John grabbed him, wanting to punch him in his smart mouth. He continued to stare, and then released him just as suddenly. "As usual, you don't have a clue! I'm not the one who is running."

"No? So why are you leaving?"

"I have a job to do, little brother, and unfortunately mine isn't in a cushy building somewhere? I go where they go, you get it?" He was pacing, and very aware of the eyes that were landing on them. This is not what he wanted. This is not why he came.

Mike backed off a bit. Truthfully, he didn't want him to go anywhere. "But, I thought..."

"I know what you thought," John interupted. "It ain't gonna happen Mike. Let it go."

Michael processed everything and sat down again. "So now what?" He turned to him. "I mean with us?"

John took a breath and sat too. "You know, there's this new fangled contraption, it's called a phone?" Mike frowned, not bothering to reply. "I'll call when I can. I promise. It's not going to be like before."

"No?" He smiled, despite himself. "You're crazy if you think that you can just forget about her, man. I saw you with her."

John stood. "I have to go." He stared, not particularly wanting to leave his brother behind this time. "Keep your phone on, alright?"

Mike stood and hugged him tightly. "I will if you will, brother." Then he watched him get on the elevator and leave his life again. It felt even worse now.


	40. Chapter 40

Kismet pt.40

FOUR MONTHS LATER

Natalie smiled widely as she passed Davis at the front desk.

"Oh! Detective?" he blurted, trying to catch her. She turned, and he shrugged sheepishly. "Sorry. The Commissioner wants to talk to you."

She nodded in amusement. "Okay, thanks Davis." She headed to check in with Bo, wondering what was up? As usual he was on the phone, and she shook her head at the familiar sight. The signs were all there - this was going to take awhile. She left for her office. "Henderson," she began, stopping the officer in the hallway, "can you get me the file for the Jansen case please?"

He grinned. "You know that's closed, right?"

"Yeah I know," she answered easily, "I'm the one who closed it." She felt good today.

"Alright, it's on its way." Then he continued on with his day.

She unlocked her door and stepped inside, nearly dropping her coffee all over her shoes. There he was, sitting on her desk and studying the wall with interest. She couldn't move. She simply stood there, waiting and hugging the paperwork she was holding to her body. After a few seconds that felt like hours, she got up the courage to speak. "I'm pretty sure I locked this when I left?" Her throat was dry.

John chuckled, staying where he was for another moment. Then he slowly rose and turned to her. He nearly sucked in a breath at the sight of her. "How sure?" he asked lightly, remembering the last time this exact conversation played out.

She smiled, despite her nerves, and cleared her throat. "So, what brings you here?" She stood stiffly at her own words. "Not another serial killer?"

He stared, shaking his head. "Not another serial killer." Their eyes were locked together.

Natalie closed the door but was careful to leave it open a crack. She could feel the effects of his gaze, as her traitorous skin grew warmer by the second. He moved closer, rounding the desk, and she took the opportunity to do the same. She made sure that the piece of furniture was kept securely between them before taking her seat. They continued to stare, neither speaking, just watching, and then Henderson welcomingly intruded as he strolled into the room with the file she requested.

"Thanks," she breathed, really, really meaning it.

"No problem. Agent McBain, it's good to see you again." He held out his hand in greeting.

John shook it. "Yeah, you too." The man left and he turned back to Natalie, absently clicking the door shut with the push of his hand. She looked good. She looked happy. "So how are you?"

She licked her lips. "Good, you?"

He didn't say anything, but quickly looked at the wall again. "I didn't think you'd still be doing that? It's messy." He grinned, and wanted to laugh at the indignation in her wide, beautiful eyes. She was grinning too.

"Yeah, well I picked up some bad habits from this Fed I know," and just like that the tension was back, replacing the awkwardness with a distinct sexual charge. She quickly tore her eyes away, staring at the paperwork in front of her. Her heart was pounding.

He cleared his throat. "So how's the case coming?" he asked, trying really hard to keep things light. He didn't want to fight with her. No, he wanted to throw her on that damn desk and kiss her senseless! She had other plans though.

"What are you doing here John?" she snapped, her voice laced with anger. She needed him to leave.

He stared hard, shaking his head slightly. "You know, right now I'm asking myself that same question? Don't worry, Detective. Think of it as professional courtesy." He walked out, shutting the door behind him a bit harder than necessary.

Natalie looked numbly where he had stood. She pushed back the tears that wanted out. She was done crying over him, damn it! He wasn't a factor anymore. Then she glanced at the papers before her, no longer remotely interested in them. She stood, needing out of here - needing to be far away from John McBain! She fled, pausing long enough to tell Davis that she could be reached at home. He saw the agent through the Commissioner's office window and nodded, not daring to say a word, and she walked out quickly, leaving an uncomfortable officer behind her.

* * *

><p>Bo watched his niece bolt for the door as he was finishing his call. He hung up and looked at the agent across from him. "You saw Natalie," he said simply.<p>

"I saw Natalie," John answered, not offering any further information. He didn't want to talk about it, and it was nobody's business anyway. It had been a mistake, and that was the end of it!

Bo leaned forward, staring hard. "Is there anything I need to know?" He saw the blatant anger that was clearly meant for him, and he sat back, sighing. "I know, stay out of it."

John eased up a bit as well, though he was still angry. He was almost always angry. They needed a swift change of topic. "So, thanks for letting me use lock up for a night."

He smiled slightly. "Not a problem John. You're welcome here anytime." He watched him shift in his chair and frown.

"Thanks, Bo." John stood, heading toward the door.

"Hey, wait? You got any plans, because you're welcome to have dinner with Matthew and I."

John smiled. He always marvelled how Bo Buchanan could diffuse even the worst of moods. "Thanks, but I'm gonna go see Mike." He turned, watching as his latest arrest was hauled into the lobby of the station. He sighed, feeling tired.

"He's a mean one," Bo said absently, walking over to his friend and joining him, watching the scene unfold in squard room.

* * *

><p>Natalie hesitated at the door. She did <em>not<em> want to go back inside, but it was her own idiotic fault for having too. In her haste to escape McBain, she left her purse in her office, and without her purse she wasn't going anywhere? She needed her car keys, her house keys, her badge and gun for christsake! She rubbed her eyes for a minute and then went in, determined to get out fast. She rounded the corner and found a perp handcuffed and in the custody of two of her officers.

"Well, hello there?" he said, obviously trying to flirt with her.

She almost laughed, but opted to grin, too amused to hold everything back. She didn't say anything, and decided not to bother with him at all. She had to get to her office.

"Oh, don't be that way baby?" he said again, blatantly eye-balling her. This time, when she looked at him there was a frown on her face.

"It's Detective Buchanan, not baby!" She glanced at her men. "Who is this?" She was getting more annoyed with every leer he threw at her.

"I'm exactly what you need."

This time she did laugh. "Not even in your wildest dreams."

"You say that now bitch, but I'll change your mind." He blew her a kiss.

Now she was pissed. "Ford, why am I still listening to the trash spewing out of his mouth?"

They started to move him toward holding, when he broke from their grasp and pinned Natalie between his body and a desk. "You feel that?" he barked aggressively, breathing heavily into her face.

She was about to beat the crap out of him, but didn't get the chance. He was hauled off of her so fast she barely saw it. But she saw John throwing him hard against the wall, and pinning him there with a tight grip over his throat.

"I believe you owe the lady an apology?" he ordered, through gritted teeth. He slammed him again.

"John!" Natalie shouted, walking up to them. "Let him go, I'm alright!" The creep was laughing. It was a strangled sound with McBain's hand around his neck, but it was still a laugh.

"You should keep a close eye on that slut, she was begging me for it."

He snapped. He hauled back and punched him in the side of the head. The prisoner grunted and fell to the ground, but he couldn't stop. He struck him again, before several hands yanked him off of him.

"McBain!" Bo shouted, stepping in between the two men.

"Why the hell is he out here to begin with?" John shouted, furiously. He shrugged from their hold, breathing heavily. He stared at Natalie, who was watching him wide-eyed. She looked frightened. He frightened her, and the realization made him sick.

His prisoner was laughing again, looking extremely pleased. "My lawyer's gonna love this," he taunted, between snickers.

Bo turned to the man. "Love what? I didn't see anything.?" He paused. "No one else did either." He turned and saw John and Natalie staring at one another. "Get his ass in a cell!" he barked, seeing his men get back to work. Then he went into his office, leaving them alone.

Natalie took a step forward, not knowing what to say? He tensed and left the building, and she hugged herself briefly before going to her office to collect her things. Then she was in her car and on the road, heading for home.

* * *

><p>"So do you actually have a residence Mike, or do you live in this damn hospital?" He watched his brother walk over and give him a quick hug. "Hey, brother!"<p>

Michael grinned. "Thanks for finally making an appearance."

John frowned. "Don't start! I'm here now."

"Yeah, but it's been four months John. You couldn't take one damn weekend?"

"Look who's talking!" They stared at one another in silence for a few minutes. "So, are you done or what? I'm hungry."

Michael took off his lab coat. "Yeah, let's eat. I know just the place." John looked dubious. "Don't look at me like that man, I live here alright. Where's the trust?"

"I'm in short supply, but since this has to do with food, I guess it'll be okay?"

A few minutes later, they were at a bar and grill, called Rodi's, and John relaxed slightly. It didn't look too bad. There was pool.

"So, did I pass the test or what?" Mike asked, knowing he did. This place was made for his big brother.

"Just sit your ass down." They ordered some burgers and sat with a couple of beers. John looked at the pool tables again. "You still play?" he asked, curious.

"Once in awhile, not much since Atlantic City. You?"

"Some."

"Okay, I've been pretty patient, but are you going to tell me?" Michael watched him stiffen and take another swig of beer.

John put the bottle down sharply. "What are you talking about?" He was tired of having to defend himself to everybody. Explain himself. Why couldn't people just let him be?

"You were in a fight. Don't look so surprised, I'm a doctor remember? Not too mention, I've been in a few tussles myself over the years. Look at your knuckles, man. Who'd you punch, John?"

His gaze fell on his hand. His knuckles were red, and there was a small cut on his thumb. He hadn't even noticed. "It was nothing, alright? A perp got a little out of control, but it's handled."

Mike wasn't going to let this drop. There was more to the story. "What perp?"

"A perp. What does it matter? A low-life serial rapist who's going to jail for the rest of his life."

"And you punched him?"

John was pissed off! "Yeah, I punched him. A couple of times. He deserved it."

Michael swallowed, softening his tone a little. "You know brother, it's not like you to lose your temper with a suspect. Tell me what happened John." He waited for a long time. So long that he didn't think he was going to get anything out of him until he finally spoke.

"He gave Natalie a hard time."

"Oh."

John sighed and drank down the rest of his beer, waving for another. It came with their burgers, and he began to eat his fries. Mike was still staring, and it was getting on his nerves. He looked up. "What was I supposed to do? The way he was talking to her...? He touched her, Mike."

"I get it John. I probably would have done the same thing in your shoes."

John spit out some of his beer. "What did you just say?"

Michael chuckled. "You heard me." He leaned forward, munching on his own fries. "It makes sense. You're in love with her and he hassled her. End of story."

John stared, incredulously. "Whoa! Who said anything about love?"

"Oh, come on man?"

John was mad. "What?"

"Okay, let's see if I can put this in perspective for you John? You're miserable. You went out of your way to stop in Llanview for the night and use the LPD for your prisoner."

"Maybe I wanted to see my baby brother?"

"That's nice. A complete load, but nice." Michael held up his hand, stopping him from talking further. "I'm willing to bet money that Natalie was the first person you _stopped in on_, and of course, you attacked a man for her." John was silent. "You're throwing yourself completely into your work, just like after Caitlyn, and you're pissed off all the time." He stared. "Am I warm?"

John licked his lips. "Why is it you always think you understand my life better than I do?"

"Uh, because I do. You may be mysterious and complicated to everyone else, but I've known you my whole life. I can read you like a book."

"Yeah?" He put on his coat. "So tell me Mike, what am I going to do now?"

Michael stood too. "Well, I guess you're going to run? That's what you do."

John lost his temper. "You're such a pompous little ass sometimes, you know that? I didn't come here to be dissected."

"No, you came here for Natalie!"

"Natalie is with Christian! She's happy, so just let it alone." Michael looked at him like he had two heads. "What?" he spat, irritated.

He pointed to a table toward the door, and waited for his brother to look. "Natalie's not with Chris, man. Not since you."

John stared at the table and watched Christian Vega having drinks with a beautiful blonde. They looked very cozy. In fact, she was practically in his lap. _What the hell was going on? _Was that ass cheating on her? No, Mike said they weren't together. He turned back to his brother.

"They're not together, John. That's Jen Rappaport," he paused, "his girlfriend."

John stared a little longer, more confused than ever. "She _was_ lying," he mumbled, before bolting out the door.

"Wait, Jo..." Mike sighed, looking at Chris again. "Don't worry brother," he said softly, "I'll get the cheque." Then he sat back down. The waitress came over with a fresh beer. "I'm going to need this burger wrapped," he said, pushing the plate her way. He sighed again and ate his food in silence.


	41. Chapter 41

Kismet pt.41

Natalie jumped at the urgent pounding on her front door. She shot from her bed and ran to it, wondering who it was and what was wrong? When it opened, he was the last person in the world she expected it to be? "What are you doing here? What's going on?" she asked, anxiously.

John leaned casually on the frame, pushing off from it when he saw the door swing wide. There she was, looking sexy as hell in her stretched, old shirt and cotton bed shorts. Truthfully, now that he was here, he didn't really know what to do or say? Or really, why he had come? Sure, she lied and now he knew it, but that didn't change anything? She obviously wanted him gone, enough to lie to make it happen, even though he was leaving anyway. He frowned, and stared back, feeling raw and used - feeling a lot of things and none of them good. "Can I come in?" he rasped.

She stood her ground. Her eyes narrowed, suspiciously. "Are you drunk, John?"

He sneered, almost hating her, wanting too. "No Natalie, I'm not drunk." There was a long pause. "Can I come in or not?"

She swallowed, seeing his anger, and it made her nervous. _Why is he so mad? _She didn't move.

He swallowed too, and took a breath to calm himself. Scaring her wasn't what he wanted, not really? He looked into her eyes. "It's important." She seemed to ponder that for a minute, before finally stepping aside and letting him pass. He walked into the livingroom, and knew that she was slowly following. He automatically glanced to the floor to see the faint stain of an old coffee spill, and his stomach clenched viciously at the memory.

She walked around him and sat on the couch, tucking her bare legs underneath her. Her hands slipped below the hem at the front of her shirt and nervously played with the material, stretching it further. "So talk," she suggested strongly, more than a little wary.

He licked his lips and opened his mouth, but quickly shut it. What the hell was he doing here? He tried again. "I had dinner with Mike tonight." She frowned slightly, obviously confused.

"What does this have to do with me, John?" she asked impatiently.

Her need to hurry this along made him mad. She looked nervous and borderline afraid. "Where's Chris tonight?" Her spine straightened, and he knew that she was pissed now too. "I thought he'd be living with you by now?"

She stood and put her hands on her hips. Despite his anger, he loved that she never backed down from a challenge. "What the hell do you want McBain? Chris isn't here, he's probably at the diner?"

"You don't know?"

"I'm not his keeper."

He chuckled, and that got her ire up even more. He walked to the front window and stared out at the empty street. "So Mike and I went to a place called Rodi's. You know it?"

"Of course I know it!" She was more confused than she ever remembered being. He wasn't making sense. "In fact, I used to work there." That made him look her way again, and she involuntarily grabbed the arm of the couch.

"Yeah? I can see that."

She took a step toward him, wanting to get this over with, needing him to get the hell out! "It's late. Get to the point please?"

He stepped closer too. "Chris was there." He watched her eyes widen briefly, before her mask of calm was back in place. "He was having drinks with a knockout blonde."

Natalie swallowed and then squared her shoulders. "Thanks for telling me, now get out!"

"Kicking me out again, hey? You do that a lot."

"That's because you're an ass!" Her heart was pounding and she felt a little dizzy. She quickly leaned against the couch for support.

"So things are okay with you two then?" he pushed, meeting her eyes with a fierce intensity.

_Oh God, he knows! _Natalie licked her lips, not sure how to get him to leave? He knew that she lied, and here he was, about to call her on it. She was frozen, waiting for the inevitable.

"Tell me why?" he barked, taking another step forward. He was burning from his anger. "You lied."

She crossed her arms over her middle, squeezing tightly. "Yes I lied, but does it really matter why? It's done."

"It matters to me."

She saw the pain in his eyes and her heart split in half. "Let's...just move on from this? It's the past, and..."

He reached out and grabbed her, pulling her closer. Her heat was radiating right through his clothing. She shut her eyes for a second, before looking at him and giving him her attention. "Do you feel that, Natalie? That's not the past, it's right now. Nothing's finished, don't you understand?"

A tear slipped over her cheek before he was kissing her. She felt his tongue force its way into her mouth, and she grabbed onto him as tightly as he held her. She felt her feet leave the floor, as he lifted her and pinned her against the nearest wall. Sounds slipped free of her throat, filling the room, and she sighed into his mouth when his hands tangled into her hair. She was on fire.

He tore himself from her and slid his lips over her slender neck, pausing at the thin scar where her cut used to be. He hovered there, breathing heavily, trying to get some control. He leaned forward, kissing her there again, this time softly. This time, gently. Her hands slid into his hair and he untangled his own from her fiery strands, needing to explore. She was so soft. He touched her arms and her smooth back, gliding along her ribs, lower, making his way to her hips. Her breath was scorching, and her tongue was dancing against his, driving him on and pushing him to continue. She moaned against him and playfully bit his lower lip, and he leaned into her until there was no space between them. He wanted her to feel how much he missed her. His hands gripped her waist and then slid under the loose material of her shirt...and that's when he lost her. He pulled from her mouth as she turned away, pushing him back with determination. He just stared in confusion. Was she hurt, did he hurt her?

"Please, John? I need you to leave." He didn't move. "I don't want this," she snapped, her eyes trimmed in red.

He continued to look at her, but shook his head. Not this time. "You're lying again, why?" She walked away, using the couch as a shield. "Tell me the truth, damn it! I deserve it Natalie!"

Another tear fell, and he saw her circling her waist again, protectively. He met her eyes. "What?" his voice was cracking.

She licked her lips, holding his gaze. "I'm pregnant John."

Then she lifted her shirt slightly, and he could see. The roundness of her stomach. It was tiny but it was there - a baby! He continued to stare, not knowing what to say? She was pregnant. _Was it Vega's? _No. He knew it wasn't. He thought of all the times that they lost themselves in the moment, not taking measures. He had never been careless before in his life, not ever, but with her he always seemed to forget himself. He blinked, lost in his head, figuring everything out slowly. He was in Llanview and on the case for just over two weeks, so it would have had to be that first night with her when she...when it happened? Mathematically speaking, it fit. He walked to the window and stared out, not really seeing anything that was in front of him.

"Well, say something?" she yelled in frustration. His silence was too much.

He turned, and he was pissed. "So...," he stopped for a moment, not caring right now that she was scared, "instead of telling me, you let me believe that you were going back to Christian? I'd really like to know why you would think that was a good idea, Nat?"

She ran a hand through her hair, and took a seat on the couch again. "I... You were leaving!" she shouted, angry too. "What was I supposed to do? Tell you, and then have the pleasure of watching you go, only with more guilt then when you got here in the first place?"

"YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME!"

She nodded, staring at her hands for a moment. "Maybe? But I didn't, and now here we are." She looked at him and saw something she never thought she'd see, disgust. Without another word he left her house, and she heard the familiar sound of squealing tires. It was the horrible past all over again. Then she touched her stomach and walked into her bedroom. She crawled under the duvet and turned off the lamp, praying that sleep would show mercy and claim her.


	42. Chapter 42

So...this is finally it! Last chapter. Thanks for hanging in with me, and for reading. Thanks very much.

* * *

><p>Kismet pt.42<p>

Natalie walked into work and her mood was foul. She hadn't gotten a wink of sleep last night, thanks to McBain's late night visit. The last thing she wanted to do was be here at all, but that wasn't an option. She was done hiding. He knew the truth, so it was his turn to run away like a coward. She passed Davis, who called out to her. "What?" she snapped, irritated.

"Uh, I need your signature on this before I can send the report away." He swallowed, wide-eyed.

Sighing, Natalie scribbled an unrecognizable name on the dotted line. _Maybe he isn't even here? _she thought, staring through the piece of paper. He had a prisoner to whisk away. He could be gone, for all she knew? But she did know, because there was no way it would be that simple with him. She dropped the pen and went right into her uncle's office without knocking. She stopped, surprised to see Sandler on the couch.

"Hey gorgeous? You can stop missing me now, I'm back."

She stared, not smiling. "It's good to see you, Mike."

He whistled, and looked at Bo. "Is it me or is it cold in here?"

She took a quick breath. "I'm sorry. Rough night. So what brings you by?"

"John, actually." She frowned, not understanding. "He asked me to come on down and collect his arrest for him. I guess he's staying?" There was a pause as he stared. "I assumed you would know about that?"

Natalie scoffed. "You know what they say about assuming."

"I know," John said from the door, "you expected me to be gone already." She turned toward him. "No such luck."

Oh, wow, did she want to slap him! But she was also nervous. What was he doing? What was this move supposed to mean? "Well, a girl can dream."

Sandler chuckled, enjoying the show. He held his hands up in mock surrender when his friend shot him a dirty look. "Sorry man." He stood. "Alright, I've got things to do." He walked up to Natalie, smiling. "Always a pleasure, hot stuff." He kissed her on the cheek as he strolled by.

She smiled despite herself. When she looked at John, he cured her grin instantly. Her anger came out all over again. He was so arrogant, it was infuriating. She walked closer, scowling. "My office. Now!" Then she left the room too.

John bit his lower lip, doing his best to keep his temper in check. He looked over at Bo, who was smirking.

"Don't look at me," he said, smuggly, "I'm staying out of it, remember?" John turned and shut the door hard behind him. Bo chuckled.

* * *

><p>Natalie leaned comfortably against her desk, staring at the door, waiting for him to barge in. She ran a shaky hand over her face. What was happening? She didn't know what to expect? He was supposed to be gone, and he definitely wasn't supposed to know anything. She closed her eyes, taking a moment to collect herself, which is of course, when he chose to enter. She could <em>feel<em> him, and she was afraid. The sound of the door lock rang in her ears, and she slowly found his sharp gaze. He was looking very, very determined. The last time he looked like that, they made love in this office. Natalie swallowed. "So you're staying?"

He looked as stoney as ever. "Well, we have some things to discuss, don't you think?"

"Do we?" She saw his eyes blaze at her dig.

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

She stood straight, surprised by his directness. "No," she answered honestly. He looked very wounded. For a man who hid his feelings from the world, he wasn't doing a great job of it right now.

He swallowed. "Why?"

Her eyes softened. "John, I..." She looked to the floor for a minute. "You have a job to do. An important job. It took me awhile to get that, but I do now. I didn't want to mess up your life anymore than I already have."

"What are you talking about?" he snapped!

He was angry again. Okay, she could deal with angry. "I'm talking about how complicated things got?" He stared hard, but let her continue. "You almost lost your job on more than one occasion, you were beaten up by my ex-boyfriend, and oh yeah, you almost died trying to save my life!"

He was amazed at what was coming out of her mouth? He was expecting regret, or more lies. Not concern for him. He grinned slightly.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"I wasn't beaten up by Christian."

She laughed, feeling a very small amount of tension leave her muscles. "I'm sorry, John." She was too. Very. She licked her lips. "So now what?"

He frowned. Leave it to her to just jump right in with that question. Hell, if he knew? "I have no idea?"

"How about we start with something simple, like how long are you here for?"

He couldn't stop frowning. _Simple? _That was anything but simple. "I don't know Natalie," he snapped, feeling put on the spot, "I didn't exactly think that far ahead."

"Well, it's a reasonable question John!" His defenses were back up. "Here's another one. What the hell do you want from me?" She walked around her desk and flopped into her seat in frustration.

"What do you want from me? To quit?"

"No!" she shouted, standing again. "I've been trying to tell you that, you ass!" She walked closer, breathing deeply. She concentrated on calming down. "Look," she continued, "you tried to tell me from the beginning that you were good at what you did, and I didn't listen at first because..." she paused, a little sad, "I didn't want to, but after Jarod I get it. It's important to a lot of people that you find these predators." He was still staring, and just as silent as ever. "You can't quit John, and not just because of Caitlyn."

He was confused. She was supposed to be asking him to stay, not encouraging him to leave? "You're pregnant with my child. I can't pretend that's not the case."

"No. I know you can't, but you're not the 9 to 5 type either. So you tell me what we're supposed to do about that?" She reached out instinctively and took his hand, studying it as she lightly played with his fingers. He was warm.

"Do you want me to stay, Natalie?"

She didn't look up. "You need to go."

"That's not what I asked?" This time she did look up, and he saw the truth in her green eyes. "So I'll stay."

"No!" she said, firmly.

He pulled from her touch and put his hands on his hips. "God, you're stubborn! Has it occurred to you that maybe I want to stay?" She looked completely surprised.

"Actually no, but you have to go, damn it!"

He began to pace. "Natalie, this is getting us nowhere. I say stay, and you say no."

"I don't see anyway around it John." He stopped in his tracks. "What?" She knew that look.

He walked up to her. "Well, what if we both get what we want?"

She frowned. "What are you talking about?"

He took a deep breath, suddenly very nervous. "I could transfer to the New Jersey office." He watched her absorb what he was suggesting. "I'd still be gone a lot, hell the commute alone is an hour and a half one way, but I could probably be persuaded to cut back on my workload." He saw her wheels turning, and began to grin. She did too. His turned salacious. "Is that a yes?" He stepped closer, putting a hand on her lower back and bringing her forward, nearly touching. Lord, she smelled fantastic!

She didn't speak because she couldn't. Instead, she stared up at him with acceptance and nodded slowly, cautiously. She ran a hand over the side of his face, and he closed his eyes at her touch. Natalie felt like her heart was going to burst from her chest. He kissed her forehead and wrapped his strong arms around her. She never felt more secure. "Can I ask you something?" she mumbled against his neck. He stared at her, waiting. "Where did you stay last night?"

John laughed. He felt lighter, and more whole than he had in a long time. This was right. "Well, there's this dive on the highway..." She smiled, but it quickly dropped. He could see that she had more to say.

"Is this what you really want?" It took every ounce of strength to ask that, not sure she wanted the answer. "Am I what you really want?"

John laughed, and she did not like that one bit. She shoved him and turned to walk away, but he grabbed her arm and swung her back around. His lips were on her before she had time to react, and he gripped her head, moaning at the feel of her tongue on his. He walked them to the desk and quickly placed her on it. Then he pulled back, panting. "I have wanted you from the moment you turned around and looked at me in that damn park." Her eyes were glazed slightly from the passion that she was fighting, but she wasn't convinced. "Natalie, I didn't have to come back to Llanview. In fact, it was a little out of my way, but..." his voice trailed off for a moment. "Even though I thought you were with Christian, I wanted to see you. I missed you." She still didn't speak, and her lips parted slightly while she breathed. John felt his body's reaction at the sight. "I'm not sure when it happened, or how, but you managed to get under my skin?"

She frowned slightly. "Wow, how romantic?"

He smiled. "If you want romance then you're with the wrong guy," he grew serious, "but I won't hurt you Natalie. Or the baby. Let me prove it." He lowered his hand and stretched it over the small bump of her stomach. His head shot up. "It's hard?"

She laughed, placing her hand over his. "What did you expect?"

"I don't know?"

Their eyes locked again, and she felt as though all the oxygen in the world was gone. "So now what?" She was breathless.

"I should probably tell my boss that I'm moving to Llanview. I'm sure I can rent a room somewhere?"

She ran her hands up his chest and around his neck. Her mouth was hovering over his lips. "Not even an option, McBain."

He smiled, very quickly losing his focus with her hot breath on his face. "I should let Mike know he's going to be an uncle."

"Uh-huh, anything else?" Her body was practically vibrating in anticipation.

"Just one more thing." He grabbed a handful of hair, piercing her with a smouldering look that melted her from the inside, out. He opened his mouth, and she followed, wanting to scream as he continued to hold back from her. His tongue lightly traced her bottom lip before touching hers briefly. He used his free hand to press against her lower back, pushing her even closer to him. Then, very slowly, he put his mouth on her, opening and teasing and seducing. Her whimper sparked a fire in his blood, and he deepened the kiss. Her legs wound around his, clinging, and he lowered her backward. They needed air, and John slid over her exposed neck, wanting to devour her. He took her mouth again, this time with purpose. His urgency was taking over and so was hers. Her hands were touching him wherever they could.

"Nat."

He blinked and pulled from her, but she very quickly reclaimed his lips, making him forget everything else.

"Natalie."

This time he managed to stay free, holding her back by her hair. He looked at the phone, and had an overwhelming sense of deja vu.

"Ignore it," she rusthed, panting.

He smiled and fell on her again, moaning into her sweet mouth.

"Natalie, damn it!"

John swore and pushed the button to the intercom. "What?" he yelled. There was nothing but a crackly connection.

"Is everything okay?" Bo asked, from his office.

Natalie laughed. "Fine, Uncle Bo. Is it important?"

"It better be important," John said, kissing her gently.

Sandler's voice came on the line. "I'm heading out. Thought you might want to give me a send off?"

John pressed the button. "You should run and hide if you see me coming." His friend's laugh filled the tiny room. Then he looked into her eyes and saw everything crystal clear. He loved her. He did love her, and he would spend the rest of his time proving that, starting right now. He bent and placed a soft kiss on her belly, before touching her lips again. She opened for him and he felt her hot tongue make sweet demands. That was the last coherent thought he had for awhile.

* * *

><p>Next story on deck: Inevitable<p> 


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